Dancing on Broken Glass
by Ace of Spades 131
Summary: Viktor isn't there when Yuuri needs him most. He'll never not be there again. Beta credit to the amazing Arisquelle.
1. Silence

"Yuuri!" Viktor called form across the rink as he saw his beloved raven-haired fiancé leaving the ice. "Where are you going?"

"Home." Yuuri smiled as Viktor skated up to him, leaning on the opposite side of the barrier. "Makka needs a walk and I need to sleep."

"I'll come with you." Viktor moved to exit the rink but was stopped by Yuuri's hand on his face and their lips connecting.

"And _you_ need to work on you step sequence." Yuuri winked as they parted, keeping his chocolate eyes locked with his fiancé's azure ones. "You spend too much time focusing on me and not enough on yourself. I'll see you at home."

Viktor leaned in for another kiss, but found himself nearly toppling over the rink barrier as Yuuri turned and walked away from him. He felt his cheeks flush pink as he stared longingly after his beautiful fiancé, not wanting Yuuri to leave his sight.

"If you're not going to practice get off the ice." Yuri blew snow at Viktor's ankles as he teased the older man. "You see him every day, how can you miss him already?"

"Because love is a mysterious thing, Yurio." Viktor's voice took on that ever familiar dream-like tone that could only mean he was thinking of his Yuuri. His Katsudon. His lover. Yuuri disappeared through the change room door, prompting Viktor to look at the smirking boy behind him. "I hope for you to understand someday."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yurio called after Viktor as he tore across the ice into a flawless quad flip, silver hair flying.

"You need to realise that what you have with Otabek is special." Viktor called as he worked through his less than perfect step sequence.

"I know that!" Yurio called back, defensively. He loved Beka, but he still didn't see how you could miss someone when they were in the same building as you. Yurio rolled his eyes at Viktor's cheeky wink, and got back to working on his combination spin. But with Viktor's words in his head, Yurio found his thoughts returning to Beka more and more. Goddammit.

Yuuri waved to Viktor and Yurio as he left the rink, receiving a grunt and a thrown kiss in return. He emerged onto the streets of St. Petersburg, deciding to walk home in the surprisingly mild evening air. The house he and Viktor shared was only a few blocks from the rink, so there was really no point in wasting money on a cab. Yuuri set off in the direction of home, feeling content. A hot bath after walking Makka sounded like a great idea; a great idea that would turn into a fantastic idea if he could persuade Viktor to take it with him. That wouldn't be too hard considering Yuuri had found his eros coming out more and more since he'd moved in with the beautiful Russian man. He was still the same, shy Yuuri in public, but at home, he and Viktor tended to eros the shit out of each other. He laughed at that thought, 'eros the shit out of each other.'

About halfway home, Yuuri began to feel uneasy. It wasn't an unusual occurrence, considering he'd always been an anxious person, so he ignored it at first. But as the feeling persisted, he decided to sneak a peek behind him. There were three men walking at a respectable distance behind him, talking and joking together. His first thought was to call Viktor, but he talked himself out of it. He was just being paranoid. These people were probably just walking home. He was overreacting. He was paranoid.

Nonetheless, he picked up his pace.

Yuuri pulled out his keys as he reached the front walk, and swiftly slipped in the door, slamming and locking it behind him. He felt his breath catch and his heart speed up as he peered out the front curtains, barely moving them aside to look out onto the illuminated street. The trio came into view, their behaviour unchanged from when Yuuri had first seen them. He stopped breathing all together when they were in front of the house, but they soon passed and Yuuri found himself letting loose a heavy sigh of relief. He'd been overreacting after all.

Yuuri dropped the curtains and shook his head, wishing he could be less paranoid all the time. His uneasiness was usually unwarranted.

Usually.

It was when Yuuri felt his head being rammed into the wall by a strong hand that he realised his anxiety had laid in the wrong situation.

The room spun, and Yuuri found himself on the edge of a panic attack, but the cold metal blade that had suddenly appeared at his throat, and the fist tangled in his hair kept him from struggling. He should have known something was off when Makkachin hadn't greeted him at the door. Why did he have to be worried about a group of people walking home the same way he was? Why couldn't he have realised he was in true danger before it presented itself in the form of a terrible headache and blood dripping down the side of his face? Why?

"Keep quiet if you want to see your boyfriend again." The man growled in Yuuri's ear. He felt his breath catch at the mention of Viktor. The one person in the world who cared as much for Yuuri as Yuuri did for him. The one person Yuuri had ever loved with his entire being. The one person Yuuri couldn't live without.

The knife was taken away and Yuuri felt the grip on his hair tighten, ripping out painful chunks, but he kept quiet. He was dragged upstairs by his hair, head spinning, but he kept quiet. Three more men were standing in the room he and Viktor shared as he was thrown onto the bed, but he still kept quiet.

 _"_ _Scream goddammit, SCREAM!"_ he begged his mouth to move, for any sound to escape his throat, but he still remained silent.

By the end of it, his wrists were bloody and raw from being tied to the bedframe. His body was bruised and aching from each painful strike. His mind swirled with confusion, not knowing whether to feel anger, fear, shame or misery. He wasn't sure where the sweat ended and the tears began. He was unconscious, both from exhaustion and pain.

That was how Viktor found him.


	2. Alone

"See you tomorrow!" Viktor called happily to Yurio as he left the rink a couple of hours later. His step sequence hadn't improved much, but he couldn't stand being away from his Yuuri anymore. He was too distracted to figure out how to clean up his apparently sloppy footwork when Yuuri was at home, alone, probably taking a hot bath. Viktor let his mind wander as he strolled home. Was Yuuri in the bath? Or lounging on the couch with Makkachin? Perhaps he had already turned in for the night, and Viktor would have the pleasure of Yuuri snuggling up to him in his sleep. That was his favourite. When he came to bed and Yuuri somehow figure out how to nuzzle into Viktor's neck without waking up.

Unfortunately, Viktor came home to none of those wonderful things.

When he was about a block away from home, Viktor began to hear a dog barking. As he got closer, he realised he recognized that bark.

"Makkachin?" He breathed, picking up his pace. Why was his little fluff ball outside in the cold? Yuuri never forgot to let Makka in. He loved puppy snuggles far too much to be so careless. Viktor found himself running before long, and panicked even more when he found the front door was unlocked. Yuuri also never forgot to lock the door. He was too paranoid for that.

Viktor burst through the door, calling out for Yuuri. He first ran to the back door, where Makkachin was scratching and barking. Viktor ran a worried hand through his hair as Makka bolted past him, up the stairs. Viktor followed, feet pounding as the bullet of curly brown fur returned to his side and ran away again, crying the whole time. Viktor followed his beloved pup down the hall, toward his and Yuuri's shared bedroom. When he reached the door, he lost his breath.

"Yuuri…?" Viktor whispered, taking in the horrific sight. Makka was on the bed, standing over Yuuri, licking and nosing at his face. The problems with the picture, however, were plentiful. Yuri was tied to the bed frame, bruised and battered, unconscious, a pool of blood between his legs and another at his head. "Yuuri!" Viktor finally figured out how to move again, and launched himself across the room, halting at the edge of the bed. "Yuuri, my love, what happened to you?" Viktor untied Yuuri's wrists, working with trembling fingers and vision blurred by tears. When Yuuri was freed, Viktor tore his cellphone from his pocket.

"My fiancé has been attacked." Viktor sobbed into the phone when the operator asked him what the emergency was. "I need an ambulance."

"Alright sir, what is your name?"

"Viktor Nikiforov." He choked out, also supplying the address of the house.

"Alright, Mr. Nikiforov help is on the way, is anyone with you?"

"No, just me." Viktor wished someone was there. Anyone. Even JJ's aggressive presence would be better than being alone.

"Okay, and is your fiancé conscious?"

"No, he's not."

"Is he breathing?"

Viktor's eyes widened. He hadn't thought of the possibility that Yuuri could be in respiratory distress. He leaned down to Yuuri's lips, listening for breath. The airflow was ragged and sparse, but it was there. "Yes, yes he's breathing." Viktor sighed with relief.

"Is he bleeding heavily from anywhere?"

Viktor's eyes moved to the dried blood on Yuuri's thighs, anger and guilt bubbling in his core. "No." The cut on his temple was crusted over with scabs. How long had he been like this?

"That's good, now it's important that you don't move him." The woman on the other end of the line explained gently. "Wait for the paramedics to arrive in case of spinal injuries."

"I understand." Viktor had been too afraid to touch Yuuri past untying him. He looked too fragile. As if one gentle kiss could send him shattering into millions of pieces.

"When you hear sirens, go outside and wave them down so they don't waste time looking for you. If you show them exactly where you are your fiancé will get help sooner."

"I understand." Viktor repeated. He didn't know if he could leave Yuuri's side-he didn't know if he could move at all-but he would try. Whatever it took to get Yuuri the help he needed.

Without realising it, Viktor hung up the phone. He stared at Yuuri, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. Why Yuuri? What had he done to deserve this fate? He was going to kill the bastard that had done this to him.

Minutes later, Viktor heard the sirens approaching. He proved himself wrong and sprung to his feet, moving faster than he ever had before. He ran down the front walk, waving his arms in the air as soon as he saw the flashing lights down the street. He bolted back upstairs, leading the paramedics to Yuuri. He didn't even ask before hopping into the ambulance and planting himself next to his beautiful Katsudon.

Once they arrived at the hospital, Viktor was forced to stay in the waiting room while Yuuri was whisked away through swinging doors, out of Viktor's sight. He paced around the sterile smelling, brightly lit room, unable to sit still. He should have been there. He should have protected Yuuri from the monster who had hurt him. Why did he have to choose today to start listening to Yuuri? Why didn't he just leave the ice? Why? Why!? WHY?!

Viktor's self-destructing thoughts were rudely interrupted by his cell phone blaring into the quiet room. He quickly exited the waiting area, preferring the privacy of outside air before he answered.

"Hello?" He managed, having forgotten to check the caller ID before he answered.

"Your little piggy left his phone at the rink, why aren't you answering the door?" Yurio's mockingly angered voice came thought the phone. Viktor couldn't seem to find his voice, only more tears. "Vitya?" Yurio's tone immediately changed to one of concern. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

Viktor hung up and sunk to his knees, sending Yurio a text to meet him at the hospital. He sobbed into the sidewalk, a rush of emotions rolling through him at high speeds, leaving him feeling off balance.

"Vitya!" Yurio called, skidding to a stop and dropping to his knees in front of his friend. "What happened? Is Yuuri okay?" He demanded, lifting Viktor's chin gently so he could look into the bloodshot blue eyes, covered by stringy layers of silver.

Viktor shook his head, a fresh wave of tears pooling in his eyes.

"Come on, let's go inside." Yakov, who Viktor had failed to notice before, gently grabbed Viktor's arm and helped him to get his feet under him. Yurio held the door open and quickly followed, biting his lip as the three sat down in the stiff hospital chairs.

The trio sat, all worried, two not knowing why, one knowing too well.

A few minutes later, a doctor called Yuuri's name into the waiting room. Viktor seemed to be moving on autopilot as he leaped up and met the doctor in the hall. Yurio rose as well, but Yakov laid a hand on his shoulder, making him sit. "It might not be any of our business." He shrugged in reply to Yurio's confused death glare.

"Are you family?" The doctor asked as Viktor practically ran up to him.

"His fiancé, yes." Viktor nodded. "His parents and sister live in Japan."

"Okay, well Mr. Katsuki has experienced some mild physical trauma, as I'm sure you could tell."

"Mild?" Viktor growled.

"Mild meaning not life threatening." The doctor quickly explained. To the untrained eye, Yuuri's wounds may have looked severe, but most of them were nothing more than bruises that would heal in a matter of days. "He does however have a grade three concussion that will keep him out of commission for a few days, and two broken ribs that will also contribute to his bedrest."

"Nothing that will cause permanent damage?"

"Nothing that will cause permanent physical damage." The doctor nodded. "But there is also the matter of the sexual assault…" He trailed off. It was always a touchy subject, and the silver-haired man before him already seemed to be wound tighter than a spring. Apprehension rolled off of him in waves. "We did run a rape kit, and we came up with four different sets of DNA."

Viktor's heart stopped when he heard that. "Four…?" He held back tears.

"The samples have been sent to police labs; we should have results within a few days. If they've ever had a run-in with law enforcement, they'll come up."

"Can I see him?" Viktor demanded, needing more than ever to be with Yuuri. To be there for him.

"Visiting hours start at seven A.M., you can see him then." The doctor looked genuinely upset, which was rare for healthcare providers. "Hopefully he will have woken up by then."

"He's still unconscious?"

"Yes, but he isn't bleeding internally or externally, so he should wake up soon."

"Thank you." Viktor turned on his heel and walked back to Yurio and Yakov. He was expressionless as he slowly lowered himself into the empty chair between them.

"Vitya…?" Yurio had never seen the man he admired so much in such distress. "What happened?"

Viktor didn't respond. He couldn't respond. All he could do was stare at the floor, too numb to cry anymore, as the number four bounced around in his head.


	3. Together

When seven A.M. rolled around Viktor was at Yuuri's bedside, holding his fiancé's icy hand between his warm ones. Yurio was by his side, having refused Yakov's offer for a ride home. Yakov had lessons to run, but Yurio couldn't leave Viktor's side, even if he was missing practice. The man was too broken to be alone.

One of the nurses told them Yuuri had woken up around four A.M., which was a good sign. But since he didn't remain awake, the nurses would have to come in every hour to check on him.

Viktor and Yurio simply sat in silence for a while, Yurio not knowing what to say, Viktor not knowing how to say it. It wasn't until his beloved began to stir that Viktor found his voice.

"Yuuri?" He kept his voice soft, not wanting to aggravate the pounding in Yuuri's head. The doctor had told Viktor that Yuuri couldn't have any pain killers because they would mask the symptoms of his concussion, which would disrupt the observation period.

Yuuri lazily opened his eyes, looking confused at first. Viktor's voice had brought him out of his dreamless sleep, but he still felt groggy and confused. Why wasn't he in his room? Why did everything hurt? Why wasn't he snuggled into Viktor the way he usually woke up?

"Yuuri are you okay?" Viktor asked, tears in his eyes. Yuuri searched for his lover with his eyes, feeling like he shouldn't move his head. He found Viktor's eyes, bloodshot and shiny with tears. He opened his mouth to ask Viktor what was wrong, what had happened, but he couldn't find his words.

Viktor squeezed Yuuri's hand, trying to be comforting. With the loving gesture, everything suddenly came crashing back. Yuuri's eyes slammed shut as he remembered his head hitting the wall, the knife to his throat, the voice in his ear. Then the hands on his chest, the lips against his, the ropes, the fear, the pain, the shame. The shame. The unbearable shame.

Viktor panicked as he listened to Yuuri's heart monitor beeping faster and faster. He tried uttering soothing words to his fiancé, but the beeping only sped up. Yurio was in the hall, flagging down a nurse while Viktor's tears poured onto Yuuri's shaking hand.

"Does he have a history of panic attacks?" the nurse asked after standing there uselessly, waiting for Yuuri to calm himself down.

"Yes." Viktor nodded, hating that they couldn't give Yuuri anything to help him.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do anything, if it happens again do exactly what you did, talk to him and call one of us."

"So you can stand there and look at him?" Yurio spat, clearly furious with the minimal care his friend was receiving.

"Normally I would give a panicking patient a sedative, but they would disrupt the observation period and mask symptoms." The nurse explained, keeping her cool. It seemed like everything that could help Yuuri would only hurt him more. "He wasn't hurting himself physically, therefore there was nothing I could do. If he were to become a danger to himself I would be forced to sedate him for his own safety, which is why episodes like this need to be monitored."

"Thank you." Viktor said to the nurse, signalling that the conversation was done and she needed to leave.

"Seriously, Vitya." Yurio pleaded after the door had shut. "What happened?"

Viktor took a deep breath and sighed, grateful that Yuuri looked peaceful in his sleep. "He was attacked when he got home from the rink."

"In your house?" Yurio's jaw hit the ground. Who would break in to their house solely to hurt Yuuri, one of the sweetest people anyone had ever met?

"Yes, four men."

"How can you know it was four?"

"Four… sets of DNA." Viktor whispered.

"DNA…?" Yurio's brows furrowed momentarily before realization hit him like a train. "You don't mean…"

Viktor simply nodded and pressed the back of Yuuri's hand to his lips, closing his eyes as another fresh wave of tears managed to force their way down his cheeks. He felt as though he should be out of tears from all the crying he'd done.

"Yuuri…" Yurio bit his tongue, not knowing what to think. How could people be so cruel? What did they gain from ruining someone else's life?

"Yuri…" Viktor's voice broke with the simple word. "Would you mind… I… I want to be alone with him for a bit…"

"Of course." It was apparent that Viktor was serious when he didn't use the stupid nickname Yurio had actually grown fond of over the past year. "I'll go find us some coffee." He offered as he rose and left the room.

"Yuuri, my love." Viktor was shaking. He didn't know if it came from anger, fear, guilt, or despair, but he shook, holding onto Yuuri's hand as if it were a lifeline, keeping him from drowning in the tidal wave of emotions that threatened to pull Viktor away from the shore of sanity. "I'm so sorry. I should have been there, I should have protected you." Viktor paused to let a sob tear through him, causing his whole body to shake. "You're so strong. You will get through this. _We_ will get through this. I'll be with you every step of the way. I love you so, so much."

Viktor just cried. He let himself sob until there were no tears left to fall. Then, he stared at Yuuri, wanting more than anything to be able to take his place. Yuuri had never done anything to hurt anybody, so why did those bastards have to go and hurt him? He'd been hurt by others his entire life, why couldn't he just be left alone?

"Hey." Yurio peered through the door. "I brought coffee, can I come in?"

"Yes." Viktor didn't take his eyes off of Yuuri as Yurio placed a cardboard cup on the table next to him.

"Do you want me to go…?" He asked after standing in silence for an awkward moment.

"No, stay." Viktor finally tore his glossy eyes away from Yuuri. "Please stay."

Yurio, unsure how to comfort Viktor, took his seat again.

"He'll be okay." Yurio assured.

"How can you say that?" Viktor snapped, immediately regretting his tone.

"He's stronger than people give him credit for." Yurio continued, pretending to be unphased by Viktor's outburst. He didn't want the man feeling worse than he already was. "Even you sometimes. He may be a walking ball of stress, but he's capable of much more than you think. It might take a long time, but he'll be okay."

Viktor stared, dumbfounded at Yurio's sudden change in demeanor. He wasn't one for compliments, especially toward Yuuri, so his speech came as a shock to both of them.

"You're right." Viktor agreed after a lengthy silence. He turned back to the beautiful bruised faced before him. "It's the 'taking a long time' part that worries me."

"We just have to be there for him."

"We?" Viktor flinched.

"You think I'm leaving you alone in this?" Yurio snorted. "I called Phichit and Beka too."

"What did you tell them?" Viktor's eyes widened in horror at Yurio's potentially reckless behaviour.

"Just that Yuuri had been hurt and was in the hospital." Yurio was even surprising himself with the lack of yelling and completely level tone. Who knew he would be the calm one in a crisis? "I told them you would need some help caring for him, so we should all pitch in. Phichit is flying in in a few hours and Beka booked a flight for later tonight."

"Thank you." Viktor's eyes brimmed with tears once again.

"We're here for you, Vitya." Yurio rested a hand atop the pile at the edge of Yuuri's bed. " _I'm_ here for you."


	4. Strength

The next evening, Viktor filled out Yuuri's discharge papers and they were able to leave the hospital. He had sent Yurio to their home ahead of them, requesting that he change the sheets on their bed before Yuuri would have to see them. Surprisingly, he did exactly what was asked of him.

Phichit had landed in the middle of the night, and was sticking around at the airport, waiting for Otabek to arrive. He had called Viktor to ask him for a hotel recommendation, but Viktor insisted that everyone stay in the same house. That way, Yuuri would never have to be alone, even for a short time.

Viktor arranged for a car to pick them up, and let Yuuri hold onto his elbow as they slowly walked out of the hospital. He was surprised Yuuri was allowing physical contact at all; when Viktor had tried to hold his hand earlier, Yuuri had pulled it away, looking frightened at the gesture that used to bring him joy.

Viktor opened the car door for Yuuri, letting him crawl in the back seat before shutting it and walking around to the other side. He climbed in, gave the driver the address, and let the ride pass in silence. Yuuri hadn't said a word since he'd woken up.

When they arrived home, Viktor got out of the car first and helped Yuuri to get to his feet. They stood in the driveway for a moment; neither was quite ready to go back inside yet.

"We have to do it sometime." Viktor smiled and offered his hand to Yuuri, who took it one step further and linked elbows with his silver-haired angel.

The progress up the front walk was slow, it took nearly five minutes to travel up the twenty-foot path. When they came to the front door, Yuuri stopped dead and pulled his arm away from Viktor.

"It's okay, I promise it's safe." He kept his voice low and smooth. "I sent Yurio in first to check it out."

Yuuri took a few deep breaths in an attempt to settle his nerves, but to no avail. He felt tears pricking behind his eyes and sunk down to his knees, letting one drop of salt water slip.

"I understand." Viktor took a knee along with his beautiful Katsudon. "It's hard for me too." Yuuri felt a stab of guilt at Viktor's comment. He couldn't imagine how he would have reacted had he had found Viktor in that state. He had a nasty habit of making people worry about him. "I think we can do it, together."

Yuuri composed himself, forcing the tears back and counting his breaths to calm his jitters. He nodded.

"Good." Viktor smiled, liking the progress they'd already made. Yuuri was at least communicating with gestures. At first, he hadn't even been able to respond to Viktor's questions. He got to his feet and watched as Yuuri rose, not wanting to overwhelm him with touch yet. However, when Yuuri began to lose his balance, Viktor's hand immediately shot out and grabbed Yuuri's arm, which made him tense. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Viktor stammered, trying to figure out whether he should let go or keep Yuuri upright. "I didn't want you to fall and make it worse."

Yuuri counted his breaths; in two three, hold two three, out two three, repeat. He reminded himself over and over again that it was only Viktor who was touching him. Viktor would never do anything to hurt Yuuri. Never. He shook off the gentle fingers and grabbed Viktor's hand.

Viktor sighed in relief and reached for the doorknob. "On three?" He looked to Yuuri and found the nod of confirmation he was searching for. "One… two… three." Viktor opened the door and Yuuri shut his eyes, letting his fiancé lead him over the threshold.

"The doctor said you need to rest, let's get you to bed." Viktor urged, continuing to lead Yuuri through the house before he could attempt an escape.

Yuuri allowed himself to be led upstairs, unable to open his eyes. His breaths came in short, sporadic bursts, which he failed to control.

"Yuuri!" he opened his eyes to see Yurio coming toward them. They were standing in the doorway of the master bedroom. Their bedroom. The room where it had happened.

Yuuri tore his hand away from Viktor. He felt the hands, the rope, the hot breath against his neck. He heard the voices, the laughter, the threats. The shame came rushing back, full force.

"Yuuri!" a voice called to him from miles away, somehow forcing its way through the others. He felt as though he was drowning in his fear, suffocating in his feelings. The voice seemed to be calling for him through an Olympic sized pool of Jell-O. "Yuuri!" clearer that time. He knew that voice. Who was it? It was someone he loved, but who?

"Yuuri!" Viktor. It was Viktor. His fiancé, the man he loved more than skating. More than his family. More than pork cutlet bowls. "Yuuri, listen to my voice." All Yuuri could see when he opened his eyes were the faces of his attackers, crowding around him, pushing closer as he sobbed. "Breathe, Yuuri. In, two three…" he did his best to follow Viktor's instructions, and found that the faces before him began to dissolve. Viktor's blue eyes came into view, and Yuuri calmed down even more. A face formed around the eyes. Why was he crying? Suddenly, Yuuri found himself uncurling from the ball he'd been crunched in and launching into Viktor's arms, knocking him on his ass. He curled up in Viktor's lap, sobbing. He wanted to apologize for making Viktor cry, for making him worry, for scaring him. But Yuuri simply could not find his words. Sentences came together in his head, but his tongue refused to articulate the syllables.

"Hey, it's okay." Viktor let tears of his own slip down his cheeks as Yuuri shook in his arms. "You're safe now."

Yurio stood by a few feet away, shifting his weight uncomfortably. He wasn't sure what to do, if anything, while Viktor rocked Yuuri gently, mumbling soothing words in his ear.

"Perhaps we should stay in one of the guest rooms." Viktor whispered after Yuuri had fallen asleep about twenty minutes later.

"That might be best." Yurio agreed, leading the way as Viktor carried Yuuri bridal style down the hall. Viktor followed Yurio into the guest room furthest from the master bedroom, knowing Yuuri wanted to be as far from that place as possible. Viktor had also found himself having flashbacks when he's laid eyes on the room, so he was glad for the change of scenery.

"Where's Makkachin?" Viktor asked after tucking Yuuri securely into bed. He hadn't previously noticed, but there was a distinct lack of poodle in the room.

"Backyard. Damn dog wouldn't leave me alone while I was trying to change your bedding." Yurio grumbled. He had never been overly fond of dogs, and Makka was the in-your-face type.

Viktor sighed and headed downstairs, Yurio on his heels. He went to the back door and let the nervous Makkachin into the house. Makka immediately ran to the front door, pawing at a translucent splotch on the wall.

"What is it?" Viktor asked his poodle, running a hand through his curly fur.

"I tried to get it off, but it was dry…" Yurio muttered, anger returning to his voice.

"Is it…?" Viktor couldn't finish the sentence.

"I think so. It's probably how he got the concussion."

Viktor closed his eyes, bracing himself against the wall as he forced his tears not to fall. He needed to be strong for Yuuri. If Viktor was a sobbing wreck, how could he expect Yuuri to get through anything?

"Vitya…" Yurio placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You should be with him. I'm going to go meet Beka and Phichit at the airport."

Viktor nodded and opened his eyes, turning to face the younger boy who somehow held the level-headed wisdom of a man twice his age. Without thinking, Viktor embraced Yurio. At first, he tensed, but the teen quickly relaxed and returned the man's hug. They both needed it, no matter how much one of them would deny it.

"There is a spare key in the drawer there." Viktor gestured as he finally unwrapped his arms from Yurio's shoulders. "Take it."

"We'll be back in a few hours." Yurio assured. "Be strong for him."

"I'll try." Viktor nodded. "I'll try."


	5. Hate

"Hello again." That voice. That horrible, horrible voice. It sent chills down Yuuri's spine that made him tremble to the ends of his fingernails. He felt the hands. They ran from his shoulders to his wrists, then up the front of his torso, snagging the hem of his shirt and pulling it up to the bottom of his rib cage. He couldn't move, he couldn't blink. He couldn't scream.

"You really are pathetic, aren't you?" he chuckled. The hot breath on his neck made him want to squirm, but he felt like he was encased in cement. Nothing would even twitch. Maniacal laughter, hands on every inch of his skin, shame. It was happening again. He didn't fight, he didn't scream, he hoped someone could hear his internal pleas for help. But of course they couldn't. Viktor wasn't telepathic.

Oh god. Viktor.

What would Viktor think of him? He didn't even struggle. He just let it happen. He didn't yell, he didn't fight. He just gave in. And now he was broken. Afraid of touch. Afraid of being alone. Unable to speak. He really was pathetic. A six year old probably would have done more for themselves than he had. He couldn't muster up the courage to call out. The neighbours might have heard, called the police. But he stayed silent. Even if his screams had gone unanswered, he could still say he'd tried. Even if he'd only landed one good punch, he could still say he'd fought. Even if they'd killed him for fighting back, Viktor would probably see him in a better light than he did now.

Yuuri suddenly jolted awake, ghosts of the hands lingering on his skin. The emotions stayed. His skin was slick with cold sweat. He was shaking harder than he could recall ever shaking before. Tears streamed down his face, mingling with sweat as they dripped onto the sheets. His head spun and pounded like someone was trying to break out of his skull with a jackhammer. His chest ached with every hyperventilated breath he managed to suck in.

"Yuuri?" Viktor drawled groggily from a few inches away. Yuuri immediately rolled over, not caring how much it hurt, and curled into Viktor's side, trying to calm himself down. Viktor already thought he was pathetic, so what was the harm in looking like a child in front of him?

"Did you have a nightmare?" Viktor pulled Yuuri close, fighting tears of his own. He wished he could make all of it go away. Yuuri didn't deserve to feel this way. He didn't deserve to be in constant fear. He didn't deserve to have what little confidence he possessed shattered and stomped on. He didn't deserve anything but love and happiness, which Viktor wanted to give him more than anything. But Viktor could tell what was going through Yuuri's head, and he hated it. Those bastards had taken something so beautiful and squashed it into the depths of hell. They'd managed to convince Yuuri that he was worthless and pathetic, rendering him mute and unable to accept Viktor's love. Before, the only time he hadn't been able to find words was when something serious was running through his head, but his eyes didn't hold the sparkle they had when he was trying to work something out. They were dull and lifeless, unless filled with fear. They had managed to turn a beautiful man into a pile of nerves and self-destructing feelings. And Viktor hated that.

"It's okay, you're safe." Viktor stroked Yuuri's hair, what used to be a sure-fire way to calm him down, but only succeeded in making his fiancé whimper and cringe away from the gentle touch. That was when Viktor noticed a small bald spot on the back of Yuuri's head. Those disgusting excuses for human beings had ruined Viktor's favourite methods of showing his affection. He was going to find out who they were. And he was going to kill them. Slowly. Painfully. A plastic spoon would do nicely.

Viktor just held Yuuri, letting him cry until he was finished. He couldn't think of anything to say. For a while, he felt how he thought Yuuri must be feeling. He wanted to speak, but his tongue refused to move.

"Yuuri, I promise you they will never hurt you again." Viktor murmured once his fiancé had cried himself out. "Nobody will. I'll make sure of it."

They fell asleep like that, tied in a knot of vulnerable limbs. Viktor's dreams were of Yuuri's pain, just as Yuuri's were. Waking was no more fun than sleeping.

When Viktor was jostled awake, he first noticed the distinct lack of bed beneath him. Then, he noticed the forceful smack of the floor meeting his back. He lost his breath for a moment, dazed and confused. Had he fallen out of bed? No, he had felt something push him. Yuuri. Where was he?! Viktor began to panic, something a lack of breath didn't help. But his panic was short lived when he turned his head to see Yuuri cowering under the bed. Viktor found his breath and rolled over to join his fiancé.

"Why are we under here?" Viktor asked, quietly. Yuuri was shaking, eyes wide, holding a finger to his lips. Viktor shut up, listened. He heard voices floating up from downstairs and felt a flicker of panic again before realising who they belonged to. "It's okay." He moved to get out from under the bed, brushing the dust out of his hair. "It's just Yurio, Phichit, and Otabek. You can come out."

Yuuri also made his way out from the dusty space, looking confused as Viktor helped him back onto the bed.

"They came to help." Viktor explained, earning a panicked look from Yuuri in return. "Don't worry, only Yurio knows. The other two were only told that you were hurt."

Yuuri's cheeks flushed pink and he dropped his gaze from Viktor's eyes. Yurio knew? Why? Why did Viktor think it would be a good idea to tell him? Didn't he know the angry Russian boy would take that information and run with it?

"What's wrong?" Viktor raised Yuuri's chin gently to look into his glossy eyes. He knew the look in Yuuri's eyes, and hated it. His anger rolled over, feeling fresh. "Do you think he's going to judge you?"

Yuuri pulled his chin away, unable to look Viktor in the eyes. Of course Yurio would judge him. Viktor did, so how could Yurio not?

"Do you think… I judge you?" Viktor found it impossible to hold back his tears when Yuuri didn't look up, confirming that that was exactly what he thought. "Yuuri… How could you think that?"

Yuuri shrugged, tears splattering onto his track pants. How could Viktor not judge him?

"Yuuri, listen to me." Viktor wiped away his last tear in defiance. He would not cry. "I will never judge you. Never. Even if you left me for JJ I would never judge you. All I want to do is take your pain away, not add to it. The same goes for Yurio. And Phichit, and Otabek, and anyone else who will ever know about this." Viktor experimentally reached out, and Yuuri leaned into him, tears falling silently. "I love you more than you could ever know." Viktor murmured into the top of Yuuri's head. "My beautiful Katsudon."


	6. Calm

"So, what exactly happened?" Phichit fiddled with his phone as the trio plopped onto the couch, Yurio leaning against Otabek, feeling the tension of the last few days slowly begin to seep away.

"I don't know details." Yurio's lie rolled off of his tongue as if he were reciting his birthday, and he relaxed into Beka's chest, suddenly realising that he hadn't slept for two days. The strong but somehow gentle fingers that laced through his hair could have lulled him to sleep in a matter of seconds, but he forced his eyes to stay open. "Only that Yuuri is hurt and Viktor isn't in the best shape either. He's in no position to care for Yuuri on his own, and I'm not capable of looking after both of them."

"So… where are they?"

"Sleeping." Yurio found himself yawning, relaxing more and more into the warm body behind him. "Viktor and I have been surviving on coffee since before I called you guys. And according to doctors, rest will heal all injuries."

"Bullshit." Otabek half snorted half grunted.

"Agreed." Yurio yawned again.

"Why don't you go get some-" Phichit was rudely interrupted by a crash coming from upstairs. "What was that?"

"Probably just Makkachin. Damn dog is so annoying." But Makka was outside. Yurio was secretly concerned about the ruckus, but instinctively kept his tough façade in place, even thought he was half asleep.

The conversation lulled for a minute, Yurio nearly dozing off in Otabek's arms, but Phichit soon woke him up when he began talking about the upcoming skating season. He rambled about his music choice and possible themes for a good fifteen minutes, yielding no responses, before Viktor came padding down the stairs.

"Vitya?" Yurio spun around, nearly elbowing Otabek in the face. "How's he doing?"

"He's sleeping now but he panicked when he heard your voices and hid under the bed." Viktor ran a trembling hand through his hair. "He thought someone broke in."

"Can you blame him for being paranoid?" Yurio relaxed again as Viktor sat heavily in an arm chair in the corner of the room.

"Thank you, guys, for coming." Viktor did his best to smile at Phichit and Otabek, but it probably turned out as more of a grimace. "I appreciate it more than you know."

"So what exactly happened?" Phichit reiterated, hoping to gain some more insight with Viktor's appearance.

"He left the rink early a couple of days ago and walked home alone." Viktor sighed, forcing his mind to keep the images of Yuuri tied to the bed tucked away. "When I got here a few hours later he was unconscious and beaten. Somebody broke in and attacked him." Viktor's voice broke and he felt yet another wave of tears threatening to spill.

"He wasn't hurt too badly, was he?" Phichit looked horrified, which was warranted. He and Yuuri had been extremely close for years, so why wouldn't he be shaken up by the news?

"No, the worst was a couple of cracked ribs and a concussion." Viktor nodded, leaving the other part out. It would be revealed in time, on Yuuri's agenda. "He'll be okay in a week or so."

"You should change to locks." Otabek piped up, shocking most of the people in the room. He tended to keep quiet in group scenarios.

"I was thinking about it." Viktor nodded, shaking off his surprise. "But inviting strangers into the house right now…"

"Yeah maybe not the best plan." Phichit agreed.

"No." Silence filled the room for a moments and Viktor's eyes landed on Yurio. "It seems the fairy has turned into sleeping beauty." He smirked, feeling semi-content as he watched the younger boy snuggle deeper into Otabek's chest. Yurio had gotten even less sleep than Viktor in the past couple of days; it was good to see him relaxed.

Yurio grunted in protest at the nicknames, but couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. He felt safe in Beka's arms, finally relaxed enough to doze off…

"We should probably put him to bed." Viktor let Makka in and chuckled at Yurio's feeble resistance as Otabek picked him up and followed Viktor up the stairs. Phichit followed, carrying both of their suitcases with him. "Here." Viktor presented the master bedroom and the remaining guest room to Otabek and Phichit, letting them pick whichever room they'd like. Otabek tucked Yurio into the guest bed while Phichit got settled in the master. Viktor was glad Otabek hadn't chosen their room, considering Yurio's knowledge of Yuuri's attack. Once everyone was settled and knew their way about the house, Viktor made his way back to the room where he and Yuuri were staying, smiling when he found Yuuri still sleeping, looking peaceful, and Makka curled up at his feet, guarding him.

Viktor quietly made his way across the room and climbed into bed next to Yuuri, instinctively opening his arms. His smile disappeared when Yuuri didn't roll over and snuggle into Viktor's neck. For the millionth time that day, Viktor cursed the men who had hurt Yuuri, vowing to kill all of them. He just stared, no longer tired, watching over Yuuri as if the blanket might strangle him or the mattress could swallow him whole. Everything seemed threatening now, and Viktor hated it. He hated everything that had happened in the last two days, and hated that he could do virtually nothing about it.

Otabek snuggled down in the comfortable bed, stroking Yurio's hair gently as the other slept soundly. It felt wonderful to run his fingers through the golden locks, so much better than just seeing them through a screen when the two skyped each other. They talked every day, but being together was different. Otabek only wished that they had been reunited under different circumstances. The visit would probably hold little relaxation with Viktor acting the way he was and Yuuri dealing with his attack. He knew that Yurio had called him because he couldn't deal with his friends on his own. Not that Otabek minded, any excuse to see Yurio was a good one. He was happy to have someone who loved him enough to ask for his help. He allowed Yurio's steady breaths to lull him to sleep, figuring the next day would be much less peaceful than their first night together.

Phichit scrolled through his Instagram feed, unable to sleep, even though he was jetlagged into thinking it was eleven pm. He simply scrolled, double tapping on nearly every photo he passed without thinking or stopping to read captions. Usually, he was much more into his social media, and would have posted about fifty million selfies by now, but his mind wandered to Yuuri, Viktor, and Yurio. Sure, they had a right to be upset about Yuuri's attack, but there was something… off about them. It just didn't make sense that the two of them were losing sleep over some broken ribs and a concussion. Yuuri would be fine in time. Sure, a break in was kind of scary, but they could just change the locks and make sure neither of them were home alone for a while and things would be fine. Yurio wouldn't have called unless Yuuri was on his death bed, or had endured something much worse than a simple clobbering. Phichit had heard all of the horror stories of playground bullies and abusive rink mates Yuuri had had to deal with in his life; there was no way some guy beating him up had put this much strain on Viktor and Yurio. And what was with them sleeping in the guest room…?


	7. Secrets

The next morning, Viktor wandered into the kitchen, following the smell of pancakes and coffee.

"Good morning!" Phichit smiled broadly as he flipped a pancake in his pan. "I hope you don't mind me rummaging through your stuff."

"Not at all. You may as well know where things are if you're going to be staying here." Viktor grabbed the coffee pot and poured himself a large mug of the steaming caffeine. He hadn't slept a wink after Yuuri's panic the prior evening, and the sleep he'd gotten before wasn't really of any quality. He took a long gulp of his coffee, not minding that it was too hot and burned as it went down. "I didn't know you cooked."

"Well Yuuri and I couldn't order in for every meal in Detroit." Phichit chuckled. "We tended to figure thing out."

"Smells great." He nodded to the stack of already cooked pancakes on the counter.

"Grab some, I'm almost done here. I doubt Yurio and Otabek will be up any time soon, so there's not use in waiting."

"Did you sleep?" Viktor asked, finally noticing that it wasn't even seven am.

"Yeah, kind of." Phichit shrugged. "I slept a lot on the plane, and at the airport. There wasn't much to do so I dozed off quite a lot actually."

"I see." Viktor grabbed some jam from the fridge, his favourite pancake topping. "Hopefully tonight will be better. I should bring some of these to Yuuri…" He trailed off, referring to pile of breakfast in his hands.

"Of course." Phichit poured a fresh glob of batter into his pan. "Oh, Viktor."

"Hmm?"

"I know you're keeping something from me."

"How do you mean?" Viktor was proud of himself for keeping his voice level.

"I know Yuuri didn't just get beaten up by someone."

"What makes you say that?"

"You. Your demeanor. Yurio's too. There's no way you'd need Otabek and I to come out here if Yuuri was just physically injured. And from what I've heard, his condition isn't even that bad. You wouldn't be losing sleep over a concussion and some broken ribs. Something else happened. I don't know what, but I will at some point. Even if you, Yurio, and Yuuri all manage to keep it from me. Know that I'm very good at figuring out secrets."

"Well in that case you should know that I'm very good at keeping secrets." Viktor countered. Phichit's tone wasn't threatening; he was simply concerned for his friend, and wanted to know the details. "Especially when it comes to Yuuri. If he does not want you to, you will not know."

"Good to know." Phichit smiled again. "Let me know how the pancakes are!"

Viktor called over his shoulder that he would, and made his way back upstairs. When he opened the door to the guest room they were staying in, Viktor found Yuuri still sleeping soundly, which was a relief. He hadn't so much as stirred since his earlier panic.

"Yuuri." Viktor whispered, setting the plate down on the night stand and placing a gentle hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Wake up my love." Yuuri stirred for a moment before groggily opening his eyes. "Phichit made breakfast." Viktor helped Yuuri to sit up and lean against the wall, careful not to jostle him too much. "Did you sleep okay?"

Yuuri shrugged as Viktor sat down on the bed with him, balancing the plate of pancakes in his lap while he opened the jar of raspberry jam and slathered the pastries with it.

"Any more nightmares?" Viktor asked, keeping his voice soft.

Yuuri shrugged again. Viktor knew him well enough to know that that meant yes. At least they hadn't been bad enough to wake him up.

"Perhaps when your concussion is better we will have to consider seeing a therapist."

Yuuri's eyes widened and his breath caught at that suggestion. Letting someone else know what had happened? A stranger? No! it was bad enough that Viktor and Yurio knew! How could Yuuri possibly open up to stranger about such an embarrassing topic?

"It was just a suggestion." Viktor placed his hand over Yuuri's, which made the younger man tense even further. Of course it did. The sick bastards had ruined comfort for Yuuri. Any actions Viktor had previously performed to calm his fiancé had flown out the window, probably making a leisurely trip around the world with lots of pit stops before they would return. Viktor let his hand slip away, and was surprised when Yuuri followed him, latching on tightly as if to say, "I'm trying."

"I love you so much, Yuuri." Viktor squeezed his hand. He didn't say those words enough. Yuuri squeezed back, hoping Viktor would understand that he was returning the words. Viktor was smart. He could figure it out.

The two ate. Rather, one ate, the other took a bite and gagged, his memories returning to the foreign tongues exploring his mouth. He tried again, but yielded the same results. Tears sprang to his eyes as he once again leaned over the edge of the bed and violently dry heaved into the nearby trashcan.

"It's okay." Viktor held Yuuri as he shook. "Let's start small, yes?" But Viktor didn't know what was keeping Yuuri from eating. He thought it was nausea from the concussion, or the nerves tying his intestines in a knot too tight for anything to pass through. Only Yuuri would knew what was going on in his head, and he intended to keep it that way. After all, how would Viktor ever kiss him again if he knew how many lips had been on his? How many people's saliva had mixed with his own? He wouldn't. And Yuuri didn't blame him. He was disgusting. Filthy. He didn't even understand how Viktor was okay with holding his hand, or sleeping in the same bed as him. How was Viktor hugging him right now? How could he continue to tell Yuuri that he loved him? If it was true, how could that be? If it was false, why did he care enough to lie? Why hadn't he just accepted that Yuuri wasn't worth the effort? That he didn't deserve the love Viktor was willing to give? Why?

"How about I get you some juice?" Viktor suggested once Yuuri's tears had run their course. He felt the gentle nod and Yuuri untangling himself from Viktor's torso. "I'll be back soon." He assured, seeing Yuuri's eyes widen at the realisation that Viktor would be leaving him alone. "Two minutes."

Yuuri nodded, gathering shaky fistfuls of the quilt and counting his breaths as the door was left ajar and Viktor disappeared. Yuuri would rather have latched on and never let go as Viktor left, but the doctor had said he needed to stay in a dark room for at least forty-eight hours with no electronics and minimal noise. That, and Viktor was probably already annoyed with him for not speaking… and now he couldn't even eat. How Viktor hadn't given up on him already, Yuuri didn't know.

"Hey, can I come in?" a usually aggressive but strangely soft voice asked from the door. Yuuri looked up to see Yurio standing there, peeking through the space that Viktor had left. He nodded, signaling Yurio to enter. As much as he was embarrassed about Yurio knowing what had happened, he really didn't want to be left alone.

"How are you feeling?" Yurio asked, perching at the end of the bed, giving Yuri his space. Yurio could feel the waves of stress rolling off of Yuuri, fifty times stronger than usual.

Yuuri only shrugged in response, gathering more quilt to hide his shaking hands. He could feel the tips of his ears turning red and hoped Yurio couldn't see it in the dark. Showing weakness in front of him was like showing weakness in front of a little brother; it only deepened the shame Yuuri already felt.

"Yuuri, look at me." A bit of the edge returned to Yurio's voice, but it was still oddly gentle. Yuuri obliged, forcing the tears not to fall. Why the hell was he crying anyway? Nothing had happened. "We're here for you. If you need anything, from any of us, especially Viktor and me, ask and it's yours."

Yuuri nodded, feeling a stab of guilt pierce his empty stomach. His friends had taken time out of their training, their lives, to help him. He wasn't worth that. He would rather they go home and leave him to figure things out. After all, he'd fallen down this hole alone, so he should be the one to dig himself out of it… right?

"Hey, I mean it." Yurio snapped when Yuuri broke eye contact. "You are not alone. Not by a long shot. It's okay to need help." His voice softened back down to its original tone with the last bit. Yurio could tell exactly what Yuuri was thinking, and knew that such thoughts were only going to make matters worse. Yuuri had been a loner before, but that just wouldn't do in this situation.

"You guys are having a party without me?" Viktor smiled to see his two Yuri's sitting in peace. He'd caught the back end of Yurio's speech, and was thankful to hear words of affirmation coming from someone else's mouth. Yuuri needed them.

"I was just going to get some breakfast, whatever Phichit made smells amazing." Yurio stood to leave, and caught Viktor's look on his way out. It was a look of gratitude, which Yurio responded to with a nod.

Once Yurio was out of the room and the door had closed, Viktor took his seat on the edge of the bed and offered the glass of orange juice to Yuuri. "Now, shall we try this?"


	8. Promises

Three days later, Yuuri was able to get out of bed. He was writing down things he wanted to say, though they were minimal. He still couldn't talk, and he still couldn't eat. Not that he really wanted to eat, his stomach was full enough with the butterflies flapping around. Wait, no, it was more like a nest of angry hornets. That was more accurate. Smoothies and soup were the only things Yuuri managed not to choke on, along with other liquids. Any sort of solid food sent him heaving over the closest trashcan.

After a failed attempt at porridge for breakfast, Viktor, Yuuri, and Phichit were lounging on the couch, talking about the upcoming season. Well, two of them were talking while Yuuri hugged his knees to his chest and listened. He still couldn't seem to find his voice. No matter how many times he opened his mouth in an attempt to participate, the conversation moved on without him, and he was left with his tongue frozen to his teeth.

"I haven't really decided yet…" Viktor mumbled after Phichit had finished telling them about his music choice and theme of 'conquering.' It was apt to change, Phichit tended to change his mind last minute when it came to skating, which Yuuri knew but couldn't tease him about. "I never really know until two or three months before competitions start."

"But your programs always look so well-rehearsed!" Phichit looked shocked, and Yuuri wanted to laugh. He really, really wanted to.

"Yes, well I practically live at the rink once I've figured things out, so I suppose I do get lots of practice in."

"Wow, you're even more impressive than I thought!" Phichit had to admit he still got a bit star struck when he talked to Viktor. "It's one thing to perform like that when you've known the routine for six months like the rest of us, but three months? Wow..."

Viktor just smiled. It had never seemed weird to him, although Yakov always nagged him to figure things out sooner. He supposed he always waited so long so he could prove Yakov wrong. He could win without the extra time. But when it came down to it, he probably trained the same amount as everyone else, just in a condensed time frame. So really, what was the point...?

Viktor's internal monologue, and Phichit's external monologue, were suddenly interrupted by Viktor's cell phone ringing.

"Sorry." He fished the small device out of his pocket, seeing an unfamiliar name on the caller ID. "Hello?" He was curious as to who was calling.

"Is this Viktor Nikiforov?" a man on the other end of the line answered.

"Yes, who is this?"

"Chief of police, Alexi Popov." He replied, confusing Viktor even more. "I'm calling regarding some DNA samples that were part of a case your fiancé was involved in."

"You have the results?" Viktor was suddenly on his feet, glancing between Yuuri and Phichit, who looked equally confused.

"Yes, I think it's better that we talk in person, can you and your fiancé come down to the station?"

"I can." Viktor confirmed. "He will not."

"Okay, whatever works…" he sighed. "Just mention my name and they'll let you through."

"I will be there in twenty minutes."

"What was that about?" Phichit asked as Viktor hung up the phone.

"Potentially finding out who hurt Yuuri." Yuuri curled tighter in his already condensed ball. "I'll be back soon, my love." Viktor assured, loving that Yuuri unwrapped himself to latch onto Viktor neck for a moment. "I'll bring Yurio with me, but Phichit and Otabek will stay here, okay?"

Yuuri nodded, thought he would have preferred to have at least one of them stay. Well, he would have preferred to have both of them stay.

"Hey, I'm here." Phichit smiled as Yuuri sat himself back on the couch. "Nothing's gonna happen."

Yuuri nodded, trying to force a smile and failing miserably.

"Come with me for a second, we need to talk." Viktor beckoned for Yuuri to follow. "Don't worry, I'll bring him back soon." Viktor smiled to Phichit, who looked uneasy. This was the behaviour he'd been talking about. The secrets, the vague wording… he wished he could just know what had happened. But it was clearly something they needed to keep hidden. At least for now.

"Yurio." Viktor nodded for him to follow as they passed the kitchen.

"Everything okay?" Yurio stood from the table where he and Beka had been talking.

"Possibly, possibly not." Viktor admitted. "Just come, please?"

"I'll be right back." Otabek nodded at Yurio's words, and watched as he followed the others out of the room.

Viktor lead the two to the back mudroom, Yuuri latched firmly onto his arm while Yurio fidgeted with his tiger t-shirt.

"The chief of police just called," Viktor kept his voice low, not wanting to let the others know what was happening, "they have the results from the DNA testing."

"And…?" Yurio pressed.

"He said I should go down there." Viktor sighed. "Didn't tell me over the phone."

"I'm going with you." Yurio demanded, his words being final.

"I figured."

Yuuri scrawled out a nearly illegible note in the small spiral notebook he was using to communicate, holding it up for Viktor to see.

"No, you're not." Viktor shook his head. "The doctor said you need to rest and shouldn't leave the house for at least week, and not engage in stressful situations for a while. I'll tell you everything I find out when I get home, okay?"

But it wasn't about finding out who they were. It was about being away from Viktor. Yuuri knew he wouldn't be alone since Phichit and Otabek were there, but Viktor was different. Viktor was home.

"I'll make it as quick as possible." Viktor promised, offering his arms to Yuuri and pulling him into a hug when he began to lean. "If he doesn't have the names, I'll come right home. If he does, I'll get them then leave, okay?"

Yuuri nodded against Viktor's chest, wanting to be brave for a change.

"I love you." Viktor whispered.

"You're safe with Phichit and Beka." Yurio assured. "If he could rescue me from a group of crazed fangirls, he can keep you safe."

Yuuri nodded again, untangling himself from Viktor.

"Do you want to sit with Phichit, or do you need to rest?" Viktor asked, watching as Yuuri scrawled Phichit's name onto his paper. It was bad enough that Viktor and Yurio were leaving, he didn't want to be totally alone.

Viktor returned Yuuri to the couch with Phichit, and discovered Otabek had also appeared in the living room, having claimed an arm chair.

"We'll be back soon!" Viktor called over his shoulder as the car he'd called pulled up in front of the house. "Call if anything happens!"

"They'll be okay." Yurio read the look on Viktor's face as they headed in the direction of the police station. "I promise."


	9. Choices

"My name is Viktor Nikiforov, I'm speaking with Alexi Popov." He declared a soon as he reached the window where the secretary was seated.

"He's very busy, what is this regarding?" She asked, lazily, clearly ready to deny his request.

"DNA results from a recent assault on my fiancé." Viktor found it difficult to keep his cool, and was surprised Yurio was standing idly by, not blowing up. "He called me himself twenty minutes ago."

"Let me page him, please take a seat." Before she could, however, a man about Viktor's height but twice his size at least came through a door at the back of the reception area.

"Nikiforov?" He asked.

"Yes." Viktor perked up at his voice. It was Alexi.

"Let him through, Jasha."

The secretary rolled her eyes and unlocked the door, allowing Viktor and Yurio through.

"I thought you said you weren't bringing your fiancé?" Alexi lead them through a room of cubicles crawling with uniformed officers and to a private office in the back of the station.

"I didn't." Viktor shrugged as they sat down, he and Yurio across from Alexi.

"Are you related to the case at all?" Alexi turned Yurio.

"They're going to tell me everything anyway so it's better to cut the middle man." Yurio grumbled, his usual edge having returned when they left the house.

"Okay then." The chief slid a file over to Viktor, who hesitantly grabbed and opened it. "As you know, the hospital labs were able to identify the presence of four foreign DNA samples left on and in your fiancé." Viktor and Yurio both cringed at how easily those words rolled off of the police chief's tongue. He probably talked about worse on a day to day basis, but to hear someone talk so calmly about Yuuri's attack just seemed abnormal. "We ran the samples through our database and came up with three of four names. Their files, which include past crimes, are what you're looking at now."

Viktor felt his hands begin to tremble as he held the names and faces of the men who had hurt his Yuuri. Ivan Kuznetsov, age forty three, arrested twice for indecent exposure and once for sexual assault against a co-worker. Kirill Vasiliev, thirty five, accused of raping his ex-wife, but the charges had been dropped. Oleg Zavragin, thirty seven, charged with the repeated rape of his sister.

Yurio saw Viktor paling as he flipped through the file. He reached out to take it, trying not to gag as he read the last creep's file. Alexi gave them a minute to take in the information before he proceeded with his spiel.

"There are a few courses of action we can take." He began. "We can press charges, but that means your fiancé will have to go to court with them."

"But there's physical evidence that this happened!" Yurio snapped, feeling his usual bubble of anger rising. "What is there to testify?"

"They may try to argue that it was consensual, and they will most likely bring lawyers into it."

Viktor did gag at that statement. "What are the other options? You said we had a few."

"There's one more." Alexi sighed. "And that would be to do nothing."

"What?" Yurio and Viktor grumbled in unison.

"The only reason I bring this up is because of your status." Alexi pointed out. "If your name is somehow leaked to the media through this case, your name and your fiancé's name will be everywhere. Everyone will know about it. I only suggest it for the sake of your privacy."

"There's no way to guarantee that they will be arrested without going to court?" Viktor's voice was somewhere between pissed off and distraught. An interesting combination.

"No. Sexual assault cases are difficult because of the possible misinterpretations or false consent. Most of them get dismissed because of it."

"Bullshit." Yurio huffed, throwing the files back down on the desk.

"Is there anything else we need to know?" Viktor interrupted before Yurio could throw a full-on temper tantrum.

"No, but I need your answer soon."

"Okay, I will discuss it with Yuuri when we get back and call you with our decision." Viktor stood, Yurio following his lead. "Thank you."

Viktor and Yuuri left without another word, to Alexi or each other. It wasn't until they were in the car that the silence was broken.

"So what are you going to do?" Yurio grumbled.

Viktor sighed. "I want him to fight, but in the end, I'll do what he wants."


	10. Different

Ever since they'd left Detroit, Phichit had missed spending time with Yuuri. There was just something about him that Phichit was drawn to. Maybe it was the fact that they were polar opposites? There was that saying… something about social introverts making friends by being adopted by an extrovert? That had certainly been the case with Phichit and Yuuri. But since he'd arrived in St. Petersburg, the time they spent together was less than relaxing. Sure, Yuuri had always been nervous and quiet, but now he was silent. Knees hugged to his chest. He'd been trembling slightly since Viktor and Yurio had left.

"What do you want to do?" Phichit asked, breaking a slightly uncomfortable silence. The skating conversation had exhausted itself after Otabek had put in his two cents. "We could watch a movie, I could cook something, we could play a board game…"

Yuuri picked up his notepad and turned it to Phichit, who eagerly awaited a response.

 **Movie. Can you let Makka in, please?**

"Yeah, for sure!" Phichit smiled. The poodle had spent quite a bit of time outside in the past couple of days, mostly because nobody had been available to walk him, and also because Yurio didn't like him and put him outside every chance he got. "Do you have a movie preference?" Phichit called as he moved to let Makka in. Yuuri shook his head and looked to Otabek, who was kind of just existing in the corner. He shrugged.

"You pick." Otabek grunted at Phichit, seeing that Yuuri didn't have an opinion either.

"Well, Yuuri knows what I'll recommend." Phichit dashed up the stairs as Makka hopped up on the couch. Makka curled up and put his head in Yuuri's lap, immediately calming his nerves a bit. Yuuri ran his fingers through Makka's curly fur and nodded to Phichit, hoping he would understand that he was agreeing with the obvious movie choice.

"So what are we watching?" Otabek asked as Phichit returned, a DVD case in hand.

"Hope you don't mind kids' movies." Phichit smirked as he inserted the disk and flopped on the couch with Yuuri.

Otabek's eyebrows pulled together for a moment before the instrumental version of _Shall we Skate?_ began to fade into the room through the TV speakers. He recognized the tune immediately and a slight smirk accompanied his eye roll.

Phichit and Yuuri had always watched The King and the Skater when one of them was feeling down in Detroit; it had become somewhat of a habit for them to listen to the soundtrack when things got stressful as well. It was an all-around feel good movie, something everyone needed at that moment.

About half an hour into the movie, Yuuri slipped out from under Makkachin's protective head and stood up from the couch.

"Where are you going?" Phichit demanded before Yuuri was even completely upright. He mimed taking a sip from a glass and gestured to the kitchen behind him. "I'll get it." Phichit moved to stand but Yuuri held out a hand, stopping him, and grabbed his notepad.

 **I have to do** ** _som_** **e things for myself. I can handle getting water.**

Phichit sat back down and smiled. "Yeah, you can." He nodded, immediately feeling bad. Yuuri hated when others did things for him, it made him feel weak. And with how he was feeling now… Phichit didn't need to make it worse.

Yuuri disappeared from the room, which made Makka whine, but with some head scratches courtesy of Phichit, he calmed himself down for a moment. However, a minute or two later, the poodle bolted into a sitting position.

"What's the matter, Makka?" Phichit and Otabek turned to look in the direction of Makka's gaze, but didn't see anything aside from the back wall of the living room. Even faster than he sat up, Makkachin launched himself over the back of the couch and bounded out of sight. Phichit and Otabek looked to each other, confused, before hearing a crash and the unmistakeable thump of a body hitting the ground seconds later.

"Yuuri?!" Phichit vaulted over the couch in the same fashion Makka had and skidded into the kitchen followed closely by Otabek. Yuuri was laying on the floor, propped up on one elbow, the other hand pressed to his temple, shattered glass and a shallow pool of water surrounding him. "Are you okay? What happened?" Phichit knelt next to Yuuri, pushing a nosy Makkachin away gently. A cold, wet nose in his ear did not seem to be helping Yuuri at all, and it would probably only add to his stress if Makka cut his paw on the broken glass.

Yuuri gestured for his notepad, which Otabek had smartly grabbed on their way to the kitchen. He handed it to Phichit, who handed it to Yuuri.

 **Dizzy. Fell.** Was all that he wrote.

"Are you okay?" Phichit pressed.

 **Don't know. Hit head.**

"You should lay down; do you want to go upstairs?" Phichit was nervously biting his lip, wishing Viktor was there. He still wasn't too sure how to interact with Yuuri. He seemed to get worked up over the smallest things, so Phichit felt as though he was walking on eggshells around a person who used to be his best friend. Yuuri was still his best friend of course, but this was not Yuuri.

 **Yes.**

"Okay, are you still dizzy?"

Yuuri held up his notepad again, pointing to the same response as before.

"Can I help you?"

He visibly tensed, but still pointed to the same answer.

"Okay, let's get you up." Phichit held out a hand to Yuuri, who hesitantly took it. "It's okay." Phichit smiled as Yuuri took his hand. "You know I would never hurt you."

Yuuri nodded, making the room tip and sway even more than before. He found himself stumbling, but before he could hit the ground, he felt strong arms around his waist. His body tensed, his breath caught, his eyes squeezed shut as he remembered being thrown on the bed, arms restrained.

 _"_ _No, no, no, not again!"_ he felt his mind beginning to spiral.

"Yuuri!" Phichit's eyes widened as Yuuri began hyperventilating and shaking. He started beating against Otabek's chest, clearly trying to get away from him.

"It's okay." Otabek tried to soothe, but looked like he was panicking almost as much as Yuuri. He gently let him down on the floor, and kept his distance as the older man scurried back into the corner, curling into a ball of pure terror.

"Viktor!" Phichit was relieved when the man answered his phone. Makkachin couldn't even get close to Yuuri without him flailing in the direction of the body. "Where are you?!"

"In a car on the way back, why?" Viktor took note of Phichit's flustered sounding voice, his mind immediately jumping to worst case scenarios.

"Yuuri's having a panic attack and neither of us can even get near him."

"I'll be there in five minutes, give him the phone."

Phichit got as close as he could to the shaking man without being attacked and knelt down. "Yuuri. Yuuri it's Viktor, can you talk to him?"

Viktor. That was a name that made things better. But Yuuri wasn't in control. He didn't want to throw punches at the people who were trying to help him. He'd just lost all rational thought. He did not want to be touched. He didn't even want anyone near him. Suddenly, there was something cold pressed against the side of his face. He could feel his arm begin to move, trying to shove the object away, but his muscles froze as he heard a voice.

"Yuuri, if you're listening you need to try to calm down."

Viktor's voice. The voice that made things better. The voice that belonged to the person that Yuuri relied on. The person that Yuuri would probably lose because of this. The person that assured him that wouldn't happen.

"Yuuri, breathe." The voice instructed. The voice counted Yuuri's breaths for him. In two three, hold two three, out two three, repeat.

Yuuri listened to that voice, following the instructions to the best of his ability, trying to keep the hiccups and sobs to a minimum. But it was hard, and it wasn't until the voice was coming directly from Viktor's mouth instead of through the phone that Yuuri began to feel himself calming down.

"What happened?" Viktor asked when Yuuri's breathing had returned to normal. He was still curled up in his ball, not ready to face the others yet.

"He went to get some water, had a dizzy spell and fell." Phichit rubbed the back of his neck, so badly regretting that he hadn't insisted upon getting Yuuri's drink for him. "He started to fall again when we were heading upstairs to get him to rest, so Otabek caught him and he panicked. He hit his head when he fell the first time."

"Don't feel bad." Viktor saw Otabek's expression. "It happened the first time I tried to hold his hand. It's not your doing."

Otabek just looked away. Yurio grabbed his hand, failing at his attempt to be comforting.

"Yuuri, can you look at me?" Viktor pressed, gently, needing to see his fiancé's eyes. To know that Yuuri wasn't completely lost. To feel like he was doing something for the man he so deeply loved.

Yuuri tensed before slowly peeking up at Viktor. It was mostly fine that he was there, but there were so many other people in the room. People who had seen Yuuri at his most vulnerable. Well, almost his most vulnerable. It even felt like Makka was silently scoffing at him. There were too many eyes. Too many eyes. Too. Many. Eyes.

 **Upstairs. PLEASE.** Yuuri scrawled hastily, practically throwing his notepad at Viktor.

"Okay." Viktor nodded. "I'm carrying you, though. We don't need another fall."

 **Fine.**


	11. Blame

"What did you hit your head on?" Viktor was relaying the doctor's questions to Yuuri, who wrote out answers in shaky, crooked writing as Viktor talked on the phone. "The fridge. He fell in the kitchen."

"And how long has it been since he sustained his first concussion?"

"Six days."

"Is he still dizzy?"

"Are you dizzy?" Viktor could pretty much answer that question by the state of Yuuri's writing, but figured he should ask in case there was something else causing the kindergartener-esque scripture. "Very."

"When were you supposed to see the specialist for a follow up?"

"Tomorrow."

"Well keep that appointment, he didn't lose consciousness?"

"No."

"Good, wake him up every two hours through the night, stay away from electronics, light, loud noises and stressful situation until you see the specialist tomorrow. You can give him acetaminophen based painkillers, but nothing with ibuprofen. Oh, and definitely no aspirin."

"Okay, thank you."

Viktor hung up with that. It was nothing he hadn't heard the first night out of the hospital.

"Do you want some Tylenol?" He asked, gently brushing Yuuri's bangs out of his eyes. Viktor was overcome with joy that Yuuri no longer shied away from his touch, it was a major victory in his eyes.

 **No, not in pain, just dizzy.**

"Okay, that's good." Viktor smiled. "The doctor said you need to do the quiet and dark therapy until tomorrow, and I have to wake you up every two hours to make sure you're not in a coma."

 **Fun**. It was nice that Viktor could hear the sarcasm in Yuuri's writing. Some of his personality was returning, albeit slowly.

"You never got your water, did you?" Viktor suddenly remembered the shattered glass and water on the floor of the kitchen.

 **No.**

"How about I get that for you now?"

 **Okay.**

Viktor was weary to leave Yuuri alone with his thoughts, but he seemed to have calmed down, and he would only be gone a minute.

"Hey." Yurio attempted a half smile as Viktor came into the kitchen. He and Otabek were on their hands and knees, cleaning up the mess that had been left by Yuuri's episode. Phichit was taking Makkachin for a walk, keeping him out of the way for the moment. "What did the doctor say?"

"Dark and quiet room, waking intervals and no stress until after the appointment tomorrow." Viktor sighed as he grabbed a plastic cup and went to the sink.

"So you can't talk about it then?"

"Nope." Viktor shook his head. He had a white-knuckle grip on the counter accompanied by shoulders that could practically be called earrings.

"Is he feeling better?" Otabek piped up from the floor as he picked up larger chunks of glass.

"He's calmed down."

"Okay. Both of you idiots need to stop blaming yourselves right now." Yurio suddenly was on his feet after a moment of silence, a different type of powerful edge in his voice. He didn't sound like an angsty teen as usual, rather a mature adult who was fed up with a couple of children not listening to them. "I can tell you both think this panic attack was your fault. Beka, you didn't know it would set him off, and you were trying to keep him from injuring himself. Viktor, you weren't here because you were getting important information that he needs to know. I wasn't here either, because I'm a tag along. Phichit didn't know what to do because he hasn't been through a panic attack with Yuuri in so long. He was even pushing Makkachin away! Stop thinking it was your fault and just help him!"

"Hey, calm down." Yurio was suddenly wrapped in Beka's strong but gentle arms. Viktor was staring at him, concern written all over his face. Yurio wasn't sure why he was getting all of the attention until he heard a quiet splat, and realised it was a tear that had dropped off of his chin and onto the floor. "You blame yourself too."

"We weren't there…" Yurio trailed off. It was the first time he'd shown any weakness since Viktor had hung up on him the night it happened. He hadn't realised it, but he had been holding in all of his rage and anguish for almost a week. And now it had finally come out. He couldn't even pinpoint the reason as to why he blamed himself. Perhaps it was because he'd spent three hours spinning and jumping on ice while Yuuri had been going through what was easily the most traumatic experience of his life. He hadn't known. He was happy, doing something he loved, while Yuuri was being torn apart by eight disgusting, selfish hands. He finally let loose and collapsed into Beka's arms. "We weren't there."

"Yuri." Again with the lack of nickname. He looked up into Viktor's watery eyes. "We couldn't have prevented it. Both of us know that; it's just a matter of getting ourselves to believe it."

Yurio nodded, but continued to sob into Beka's chest.

"I need to be with him, I'll come talk to you when he falls asleep, okay?"

Yurio nodded and Viktor trekked upstairs, giving a nod of thanks to Otabek on his way.

"Yuuri, what's wrong?" Viktor opened the door to his fiancé silently letting tears roll down his face.

 **I'm sorry.** Was all the notepad said

"Why? Why are you sorry?" Viktor quickly moved to sit next to Yuuri, wanting to wrap him in his arms but figuring he should let Yuuri dictate the physical contact.

 **I heard everything Yurio said. You're all in this position because of me. You all feel bad because of me. I'm stressing all of you out because you don't know when I'm going to go off. I'm like a bomb without a countdown. I hate it. I want to be better. I don't want to be a burden. I'm not worth your worrying. I-**

"Stop it right now." Viktor took the pen away from Yuuri before he could write anything more. He hoped his tears were visible in the darkness. "Don't ever think for a second that this is your fault. And don't ever say you're a burden, or not worth it. You are worth everything to me, Yuuri. If I had to throw away everything to be with you, I would do it. I love you so fucking much Yuuri, I don't even know how to comprehend it. I sure as hell don't expect you to be able to. Nothing that happens will ever be too much for me to handle. Ever. I need you to understand that I'll be here for you until the end. So will Yurio. So will Phichit. And Otabek will be by Yurio's side so we may as well count him too. I don't say it enough. I love you. Unconditionally. If in ten years, you're still talking to me through a notebook and kicking me off the bed because of nightmares and having panic attacks every other day, I will stand by your side. I will love you forever. That's the only thing in this world that I'm certain of."

Yuuri didn't ask for his pen back. He didn't need to. All he needed to do was melt into Viktor's shoulder and cry, latching onto him for dear life while Viktor did the same.


	12. Tainted

"You ready to go?" Viktor knocked on the door, making sure Yuuri was dressed. He'd accidentally walked in when Yuuri was changing his shirt a couple of days prior, which had nearly induced a panic attack. Yuuri opened the door, meeting Viktor in the hall. He was fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt, nervous. It was understandable, he hadn't left the house in five days. "Are you still dizzy?" Viktor eyed the stairs behind them. They didn't need Yuuri falling again. He just shook his head, but rested his hand on the banister as they descended, easing Viktor's worried mind.

"Heading out?" Yurio questioned as he slung a bag over his shoulder, Otabek doing the same behind him.

"Yes, his appointment is in half an hour." Viktor's brows pulled together at the sight of the bags the two before him were holding. "Where are you going?"

"Yakov set aside some rink time for us." Yurio shrugged. "We haven't practiced in a while. Phichit's coming too, you should stop by after your appointment, if we're still there. If not he's set aside a few hours a day so we can have private practice or his direction."

"Thanks, Yurio."

"Don't thank me, he called and told me I need to get my ass back to the rink soon. Their coaches called him when they found out where they were, too. It was all his doing."

"Well tell him I said thank you." Viktor nodded. "Our ride is here; see you guys later." Viktor waved and lead the way to the car, giving the driver the address of the doctor's office as he and Yuuri crawled in.

"What's up?" Viktor finally forced his mouth to move when they were about halfway to the doctors' office. Yuuri had been fiddling with his sweater sleeves and gnawing on his lip the entire ride. Viktor was reluctant to ask, considering Yuuri hadn't liked to talk about his problems even before his attack. Now he was even more closed off, unless he was scribbling self-deprecating notes.

Yuuri took a moment to write out his response, clearly thinking it over carefully as he rolled the pen between his fingers. He slipped the notebook over to Viktor when he was finished, keeping his gaze down.

 **I'm nervous. I haven't thought of it like this before, but what if I can't talk because of something physical, not mental?**

"I don't think that's the case." Viktor offered his hand, which Yuuri took with almost no hesitation. "The doctor at the hospital said you wouldn't have any permanent physical damage. Your trouble speaking is almost definitely mental."

 **Almost** **definitely.**

"If it's not, we'll figure it out." Viktor squeezed Yuuri's hand and he squeezed back. It was obvious he was upset about something else, but Viktor didn't want to pressure him too much.

They took the rest of the ride in silence, hands tightly locked, one set of fingers trembling.

When they got to the doctors' office, Yuuri claimed two chairs while Viktor checked him in, figuring it would be much easier to just do the talking for him. Yuuri agreed, figuring people would get annoyed with his current means of communication.

"How are you feeling?" Viktor lowered himself into the seat next to Yuuri, taking in the fairly full and somewhat noisy waiting room. The office that had been recommended to them housed a combination of head trauma specialists as well as pediatricians, and respiratory specialists, which created a less than pleasant symphony of groaning, coughing, and kids.

 **Physically, fine.** Yuuri wrote back. His head wasn't bothering him very much, and his dizziness was pretty much gone. A few sharp turns during the car ride there had sent his head reeling, but when sitting, standing, or walking he felt completely balanced. Of course, the high-pitched screeches emanating from the children's waiting area were aggravating the mild ache in his temple, but they would probably give him a headache even if he wasn't concussed.

Yuuri fidgeted with his sleeves again once Viktor fell silent. He looked around the room, catching some people's eyes as he scanned. As he scanned back, he seemed to catch more glances. The room was pretty full… nineteen people that he could see, including the receptionist at the desk. That wasn't counting the kids he could only hear. Yuuri felt his head begin to spin as twenty eight eyes fell on him, but he wasn't dizzy because of his head, he could feel his breath beginning to catch. They were staring. Judging. How did they even know?! They couldn't know! Only a handful of people knew, so how did these strangers find out?!

 _"Not here, not now!"_ his own voice screamed in his head. He could feel the chaos edging at his mind, threatening to take over. _"Viktor! Help!"_

"Hey, hey!" Viktor reached for Yuuri's hands, and successfully made Yuuri look at him, locking his calm eyes with the younger man's panic-filled ones. "You're safe, nobody will hurt you here."

Yuuri reached for his notebook and scribbled a very shaky note.

 **They're staring. Why are they staring?**

"Who?" Viktor glanced around the room, only catching a single woman's eye as their gaze crossed paths.

 **Everyone.**

"They're not." Viktor took a huge risk, but figured it would be worth it if it paid off, much like when he'd tackle-kissed Yuuri after his phenomenal performance. He gently placed his hand on the back of Yuuri's head, tipping it forward so their foreheads connected. "Just close your eyes, breathe. In two three, hold two three, out two three repeat." Yuuri followed Viktor's instructions, feeling their breath mingling as he slowly relaxed. Their thoughts seemed to connect as he leaned closer to Viktor, taking comfort in his warmth. Once his breathing had returned to normal, Yuuri moved his head to the side, leaning into Viktor's shoulder and wrapping his arms around the other man. He tried to keep his fears of what other people were thinking at the back of his mind. He didn't care. Or so he tried to convince himself. It wasn't completely true, but he found it easier to convince himself he didn't care when Viktor's arms snaked their way around his waist.

"I love you." Viktor whispered. He found himself feeling the need to say it more often. He was fine with that. Yuuri was fine with that.

"Katsuki?" A nurse called into the waiting room after about five minutes of the skaters' cuddle fest.

Yuuri and Viktor rose together, hands tightly intertwined.

"Doctor Tanaka will be in to see you in a few moments." The nurse smiled as Viktor helped Yuuri to hop up on the bed. The very uncomfortable bed. "Until then, feel free to browse the pamphlets."

"Thank you." Viktor nodded as he took a seat in the chair next to Yuuri's perch. The nurse left, closing the door of the small, sterile smelling room behind her.

Yuuri and Viktor let the minutes pass in a comfortable silence. Viktor didn't have anything to say, and even if he wanted to, Yuuri couldn't form the words.

"Hello, Mr. Katsuki. I'm Dr. Tanaka." a perky sounding woman opened the door, smiling brightly. "How are you doing today?"

 **Fine, thanks, and you?** Yuuri wrote quickly, holding up the notepad for the doctor to see.

"I'm good, thank you for asking." Dr. Tanaka smiled, but Yuuri caught the moment of confusion that appeared on her face. "And you are?" Tanaka turned to Viktor.

"I'm Viktor Nikiforov, Yuuri's fiancé." Viktor smiled and shook the doctor's hand firmly.

"Well it's good to meet you both." Dr. Tanaka took a seat before the computer in the corner. "So, it says here you were assaulted in your home one week ago?" She read off the computer screen.

"Yes that's correct." Viktor confirmed. He and Yuuri had agreed upon Viktor answering all of the questions he definitely knew the responses to.

"And how exactly was the concussion obtained?"

 **One of the attackers rammed my head into the wall.** Yuuri wrote out, trying not to remember it too much. he didn't need to break down yet again. Viktor was probably getting tired of it.

"Is that how you got the scab on your temple there?"

"Yes." Viktor nodded.

"Did you sustain any other injuries?"

"Two broken ribs on the right side, and multiple other minor bruises and cuts."

"Have you done anything that may have aggravated your concussion?"

 **I had a dizzy spell and fell yesterday. Hit my head on the way down.**

"What were you doing before you fell?"

"Standing in the kitchen, getting a glass of water."

"May I ask what's keeping you from speaking, Mr. Katsuki?" Dr. Tanaka asked, seeming to be getting slightly irritated with the back and forth nature of the conversation. "Are you having trouble speaking or forming clear thoughts?"

 **No, my thoughts are perfectly clear most of the time. For some reason I just can't speak them out loud.**

"That sometimes happens in the case of trauma victims, and it doesn't look like you have any physical complications at the moment, so that should pass in a matter of time."

"That's reassuring." Viktor smiled at Yuuri, happy that his previous statement had been proven true.

"You're a professional figure skater, correct?"

Yuuri nodded.

"Well because of your dizzy spell I can't clear you yet." Tanaka sighed. "I'd like you to come back in two weeks, write down any time you feel dizzy, have a headache, or any other complications such as distorted vision or irritation caused by light or sound. Take it easy for this week, try not to stress too much, do any vigorous activity and limit your electronic usage."

Yuuri nodded again.

"Alright, you guys are done for today, I'll see you in two weeks and hopefully clear you then too." Tanaka smiled and stood to open the door for her patient.

"Thank you." Viktor nodded to Tanaka and followed closely behind Yuuri as he went out the door. Before they could begin down the hallway, however, Viktor remembered something he was going to ask.

"Dr. Tanaka!" He whirled around and caught her attention before she disappeared around a corner. "Yuuri hasn't been able to eat since he was concussed. All he's been able to stomach is liquid so he's been eating nothing but soup and smoothies for the past few days. Is nausea supposed to last that long?"

"You've been nauseous all week?" Dr. Tanaka went to make a note as Yuuri scrambled for his pen. "That could be cause for concern…"

 **No! No, it's not nausea!** Yuuri frantically scribbled.

"No? Then what is it?" Tanaka looked genuinely confused.

 **Nothing physical.** Yuuri assured. **I'll tell you later**. He handed the second part only to Viktor.

"Well if you're sure, I'll see you in a couple of weeks." Dr. Tanaka left reluctantly, and Viktor steered Yuuri the other way, toward the waiting area.

"We were told to book another appointment in two weeks with Dr. Tanaka." Viktor spoke to the receptionist while Yuuri stared at his shoes, hating that Viktor had brought his eating difficulties up with the doctor. The intent was good, but the outcome would be Yuuri giving more information out that would turn Viktor even further away from him. Yuuri wasn't sure if Viktor realised just how disgusting he was, and he certainly hadn't wanted to digress that information, but now he'd said he would. And he wished he hadn't.

The car ride home was silent. Viktor didn't even call to see if Yurio, Otabek, and Phichit were still at the rink. When they got home, Viktor and Yuuri plopped onto the couch in the quiet house, Makkachin jumping up next to them.

"Spill." Viktor demanded in a somehow gentle tone. "If it's not nausea what is it?"

Yuuri sighed and pulled up a fresh sheet of paper, carefully planning out his confession.

 **Their tongues were in my mouth. Every time something solid passes my lips, I feel so disgusting I end up gagging. I can't even stand to brush my teeth. This whole week I've just been using mouth wash.**

"Yuuri…" Viktor opened his arms and gathered Yuuri in them tightly, wanting to never let go. "You are not disgusting. You are perfect. You've done nothing wrong. It's those men who are the disgusting ones."

Yuuri positioned his legs across Viktor's lap so he could rest sideways against the older man's chest, feeling tears burning behind his eyes. **But if they're disgusting doesn't that make me dirty by default? They really didn't leave any part of me untouched. They tainted me with their filth.**

"No." Viktor hugged Yuuri tighter. "They could never taint you. You're too pure for that."

 **Still.**

"Would you feel better if you had a bath?" Viktor suggested. "You haven't had one since you came home have you?"

 **Yeah, I could go for a shower.**

"No. You're having a bath." Viktor held Yuuri at the shoulders, looking into his somewhat watery eyes. "If you can't stand at the counter you're not standing on slippery tiles."

 **Fine.** Yuuri gave in. A bath wouldn't be so bad.

"I'll go draw it for you; Makka, protect Yuuri!"


	13. Love

"Is the water okay?" Viktor asked as Yuuri ran his fingers across the still surface of the pleasantly warm bathwater. He nodded. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes to help you get out, okay?"

Yuuri tensed. He knew Viktor wouldn't hurt him. Ever. But being in such a vulnerable position around someone else, even someone he completely trusted, had Yuuri feeling uneasy.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore, my love." Viktor assured with a final firm hug. "You're safe."

Yuuri nodded again, signalling that Viktor could leave. Once the door shut, Yuuri pulled at the hem of his sweatshirt, bringing it up and over his head before he let it plop onto the floor with an unimpressive sound of impact. He stared at his wrists for a moment. They were healing, bruises mostly faded but still yellow in some spots. There were a few patches of raw skin where the ropes had cut deeper into his wrists; they would undoubtedly sting when the warm water made contact. His gaze wandered up his arms, which looked mostly normal aside from a couple of scattered bruises that had also mostly healed. His chest was a different story. When Yuuri pulled his t-shirt off, he caught sight of the purple, plate sized bruise on his side, where his ribs had been broken. They felt better for the most part, and only really bothered him when he coughed, or hyperventilated, or laid weird... okay maybe they didn't really feel better except when he was sitting still.

Yuuri glanced to the door, making sure it was firmly closed, before he mentally prepared to take his track pants off. He took a deep breath, reminding himself for the millionth time that he was safe, contained in the four walls of his otherwise empty bathroom.

His boxers were the hardest. He couldn't seem to convince himself that it was impossible for someone to simply appear out of thin air and hurt him again. He decided maybe it would be okay to leave them on and change them later.

Yuuri eased himself into the tub, lowering his body slowly into the warm embrace it offered. It was almost as nice as being snuggled up with Viktor and Makka. Almost. It was just as warm, and did quite a good job of relaxing and clearing Yuuri's mind. But the water didn't quite have the same ability to calm him down instantaneously.

Yuuri sunk down further, letting his head loll back so his hair was submerged. He relaxed like that for a minute, before he remembered why he had gotten into the bath in the first place. He grabbed the pine scented soap and a loofa from the edge of the tub and got to work.

He scrubbed every inch of his skin, washing away the handprints that had been left on his skin. perhaps his scrubbing was slightly over-zealous, but he didn't care if there were angry red patches stinging his arms or tiny beads of blood leaking into the water from his stomach, he felt clean. Well, clean _er_.

Once he had finished scrubbing his hair, Yuuri submerged his body completely, leaving only his nose and mouth above the water. He let his mind go blank, something it hadn't been able to do in the past week, and just existed. For a moment, he thought he might be happy.

But then Viktor knocked on the door.

"I'm coming in, okay?" He called, before remembering Yuuri wouldn't answer.

He slowly cracked the door open and peeked into the bathroom, looking for Yuuri's nod of confirmation. He got it, and slipped through the door, closing it behind him. "The others got back not long ago, sorry it's been a bit longer than fifteen minutes." Viktor smiled sheepishly as Yuuri drained the tub and reached for a towel. "Let me help you out." Viktor slowly approached, as if Yuuri were a wild animal that could lash out at any given moment. But he seemed fine. He looked much more relaxed than Viktor had seen him in the past week. "You left your shorts on?" Viktor mused as Yuuri extended his arms for help. Viktor loved that he was not only accepting the assistance Viktor offered, but seeking it out himself. Viktor took hold or Yuuri's elbows, the younger man following suit as he got to his feet.

Yuuri only nodded at Viktor's comment about his bathing attire, and wrapped a towel around his waist before stepping out of the tub.

"Do you feel better?" Viktor found his hands hovering around Yuuri, not willing to let him fall again. Especially not on the cold ceramic tiles of the bathroom floor. Viktor's eyes wandered over Yuuri's bruised skin, and lingered on the angry red patches. "Did you scratch yourself?"

Yuuri looked down, feeling as though he should be ashamed of the marks from the vigorous scrubbing, but simply felt content that there were spots of his skin that hadn't been touched by evil, disgusting hands. Those spots were fresh and new, untainted.

Yuuri just shrugged, walking with Viktor to their room and plopping down on the bed.

"This probably isn't the best time, but we need to talk about something..." Viktor trailed off as he grabbed a pair of track pants and a t-shirt for Yuuri and dropped them on the bed. The raw patches of skin that littered Yuuri's body made him chew on his lip in concern, but he figured as long as it didn't become a habit, Yuuri would be okay.

Yuuri looked up at him curiously as he slipped the shirt over his head and gestured for Viktor to turn around while he changed his boxers and put on pants.

"There will probably never be a good time for this but… When I went to the police station yesterday, I got three names, and two options of what we can do moving forward."

Yuuri tensed as Viktor sat back down next to him. Viktor reached for Yuuri's hand, but it slipped away from him just as he was about to intertwine their fingers.

 **Only three?** Yuuri wrote out, all feelings of relaxation and cleanliness flying out the window, probably having landed somewhere in Canada.

"Yes, the fourth has never had a confrontation with law enforcement." Viktor didn't want to talk about it almost as much as Yuuri didn't want to hear about it, but it needed to be discussed and their path decided upon.

 **What are the options?**

"We take them to court, but cases like these don't go over very well because of quote en quote 'misinterpreted information.' Also, it is likely that since we're considered to be public figures, your name will end up all over the news. Everyone will know." Yuuri tensed even more when Viktor uttered those words. It was bad enough that Yurio knew. If it ended up in the news JJ would find out. Chris would know. Minami, Yuko, Takeshi, Minako, his parents, Mari. Everyone.

 **There's no way to guarantee it'll be kept quiet?**

"No. Especially not if we win and they get arrested." Viktor sighed. "The reports will be detailed."

 **What's the other option?**

"Do nothing." Viktor hung his head, hoping with every fibre of his being that Yuuri wouldn't pick the second option. "It will keep us out of the news, but it will also let them free on the streets."

 **Why do we even need to fight it? There's evidence.**

"Yurio asked the same thing." Viktor shook his head, thinking back to Alexi's explanation. "Something about possible consent. Bullshit, essentially. But we can fight it. We can win. We can put them away and make sure they never hurt anyone else. What... What's wrong?" Viktor noticed tears brimming in Yuuri's eyes as the raven haired man slumped deeper in on himself.

 **We won't win.**

"What? Why would you say that? They forced themselves on you. There's no denying facts."

 **No. I** his hand hovered over the page as he debated whether he was ready to admit his most shameful act to Viktor.

"What, Yuuri?" Viktor resisted the urge to shake the younger man, needing him to spit it out.

 **I didn't fight. I didn't yell. I didn't tell them no.** The dam behind Yuuri's eyes broke and he collapsed away from Viktor, his feelings of shame and guilt hitting him harder than ever before. **They told me I had to be quiet if I wanted to see you again. I did what they said.**

"Yuuri, you were being threatened." Viktor defiantly wiped tears from his cheeks, wishing Yuuri had slumped into his arms, not into the pile of pillows next to him. "It wasn't consensual. Just because you didn't say no doesn't mean you said yes."

 **You said it yourself. Possible consent. I didn't say yes but I also didn't say no. There's no evidence that they threatened me other than my own word. And three against one aren't good odds for me. Especially when my word is pen on paper.**

"Yuuri. Look at me." Viktor even surprised himself with the harsh tone. Yuuri jumped, but peered over at his fiancé, hardly able to face him. "I know what you're thinking right now and you're wrong. I'm sorry to be so blunt, but you are not dirty. You did not give consent. You are not a jezebel. And I love you. I love you so much. I'm not judging you, and I will never, ever judge you no matter what you do. Do you understand me?"

Yuuri nodded, sniffling, trying to convince himself that Viktor's words were true. Why would he go through all the trouble of lying to make Yuuri feel better?

"Good, now come here and let me hug you." Viktor opened his arms, mildly surprised when Yuuri actually sat up then melted into them. "You're safe with me, and we can find a way to win. I promise you that I will not let them get away with hurting you. Nobody will ever get away with hurting you. Not when I'm around."

 **I love you.** Yuuri took a few moments to write the note. He wasn't sure if it was the time, but that was all he could think to say.

"I know, and I love you too." Viktor wished he'd been recording their conversations in the past few days down so he could go back and count the number of times those three words had been said. I love you. Such a simple phrase that was uttered by so many people every day. But it only really held any importance when Viktor said it to Yuuri. No one else mattered enough. No one else was good enough. No one else made Viktor's heart flutter. No one else could make Viktor act the way Yuuri could. Well, the way Yuuri used to. Viktor's goofy love-sick side hadn't come out in a week, and he sincerely missed it. Nobody had ever made him melt with one glance. No one could make him fall out of a combination spin just by skating by. No one could make him stare at nothing for five minutes after they'd walked out of sight. Never before had he missed someone while they were in the same room. Viktor realized every day he spent with Yuuri that he was in love. For the first time, ever. And he wasn't about to let those feelings go.

"We'll get through this." Viktor whispered into the top of a head as Yuuri cried silently into his shoulder. "Not just us. Yurio, Phichit, and Otabek are here for us. Both of us." Viktor squeezed Yuuri gently. "I really think you should tell them what happened."

Yuuri looked up at Viktor, brows drawn together in a thoughtful way. The expression was much better than the one Viktor had been expecting, considering he thought he'd see a look of panic or fury when Yuuri peeked up at him.

 **I'll tell them when I can physically tell them**.

"That's fair." Viktor smiled as Yuuri leaned back into his shoulder. Viktor slowly laid back, pulling Yuuri close. They snuggled up, how they did before all of this had happened. Yuuri nuzzled into Viktor's neck, collecting a loose fistful of his t-shirt. Viktor wrapped both arms around Yuuri, one at his shoulders, the other at his waist.

Viktor softly rubbed circles into Yuuri's back, letting him cry. His breathing eventually evened out, but Viktor continued to trace his circles, hoping he could keep Yuuri relaxed enough to fend off the nightmares that were sure to come. He stared lovingly at his beautiful fiancé's sleeping face, savouring the tension free, relaxed expression that finally graced his features after such an extended period of stress. Viktor sighed, planting a gentle kiss in the centre of Yuuri's forehead.

Unintentionally, Viktor's eyes slid shut, and he drifted off to sleep.


	14. Clear

**Sorry this update is late...**

 **These past few weeks have been interesting, and things don't seem to be getting too much brighter at the moment, so I've decided it's best for me to update once per week instead of every three days for a bit.**

 **I'm sorry, but apparently some things are more important that fanfiction (I know, crazy, right?).**

 **~Ace**

* * *

To Viktor's dismay, Yuuri opted for option two.

Two weeks after their conversation about how to proceed, nothing had been done about the men who had hurt Yuuri, and nothing would be done going forward. Yuuri didn't want all of his friends and family to know. He didn't want his fans to know. He didn't want random strangers who had never heard his name to know. He didn't want anyone else to know.

Viktor silently bit his tongue when Yuuri told him he wanted to keep his name out of the news at all costs. Yurio yelled. He didn't yell at Yuuri, but he certainly yelled in his general direction. He stopped when Yuuri started crying, tearing up a bit himself.

"I'm sorry, I'm just mad." Yurio seethed at his own behaviour. "They shouldn't get away with it." And he huffed off, heading to wherever Otabek was.

"We should get going soon." Viktor wrapped his arms around Yuuri, who nodded and wiped the tears away. He knew Yurio wasn't trying to hurt him, he was just angry. He wanted justice. Yuuri wanted that to, but if the cost was exposing what had happened to him… he thought that price might be a bit too high.

Forty five minutes later, Yuuri and Viktor were in the waiting room at the clinic again, ready for Yuuri's second follow up with Dr. Tanaka. As soon as they'd taken a seat in the crowded waiting room, Yuuri had latched onto Viktor's hand and cast his gaze down, staring at his own knees as his leg bounced up and down.

"It's okay." Viktor whispered after a few moments of silence, pulling Yuuri into a firm embrace. "You haven't been dizzy or had headaches at all these past two weeks?"

Yuuri shook his head, leaning closer to Viktor. His strong arms held Yuuri tighter, squeezing away the panic that had been slowly rising.

"Well then she'll clear you." Viktor found serenity in the fact that he was finally able to run his fingers through Yuuri's hair again without him flinching.

"Katsuki?" The word that allowed the couple to leave the waiting room echoed to their ears. They rose, followed the nurse, and waited for Dr. Tanaka.

"Hello, how are you feeling today, Mr. Katsuki?" Dr. Tanaka's smile did little to ease the tension in the room.

 **Much better, thank you.**

"I'm glad!" She plopped down at her computer after nodding a greeting to Viktor.

"So, any dizzy spells, unexplained headaches, nausea, confusion, or blurry vision since we last saw each other?"

"No." Viktor voiced as Yuuri shook his head.

"Great!" Dr. Tanaka smiled as she typed up her notes. "Nod and shake your head as fast as you can." Yuuri followed the instructions, feeling rather ridiculous as he did so. "Anything?"

Yuuri shook his head, gentler this time.

"Well then you're cleared. I know it's annoying to come all the way here for that, but better safe than sorry, right?"

"Of course." Viktor smiled, willing to do anything, absolutely anything, to make sure Yuuri was safe and healthy. "So is he able to return to skating?"

"Yes, but not at the level you may be thinking." Dr. Tanaka sighed. "You will definitely be able to compete this season, but ease yourself back into it. Don't try to throw a quad your first day back on the ice. And if you feel tired, sore, dizzy, anything I previously mentioned, get off the ice and sit down immediately."

 **Understood.**

"Good, if you start showing symptoms consistently again, give me a call and we'll figure out what's going on."

"We will." Viktor gladly took Yuuri's extended hand as they headed for the door.

"Oh, before you leave!"

"Yes?" Viktor and Yuuri turned around curiously as they paused at the door.

"Has there been any progress with your speech at all?"

Yuuri shook his head, sadly. He was beginning to forget what his voice sounded like. That was scary. To not know his own voice. Something that had been in his ears for as long as he could remember. It was like forgetting his own face. Or how to do a single loop. It just shouldn't happen.

"You may want to consider seeing a speech therapist. A psychologist might also do you some good."

"We will look into it." Viktor nodded. "Thank you."

"Good luck!"

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to." Viktor assured after the door closed, seeing Yuuri's slightly widened eyes. "We can look into it, and decide once we have more information."

Yuuri nodded, leaning on Viktor as they left the office.

"Can you set aside a few hours for Yuuri and me?" Yuuri listened to Viktor's side of his conversation with Yakov durring the ride home, leaning on Viktor's shoulder, eyes drifting open and shut with the twists and sways of the car.

"Thank you, we'll see you tomorrow." Viktor hung up and smiled down at his sleepy fiancé. Neither of them had gotten much sleep, nightmares having plagued Yuuri's mind nearly the entire night. Viktor had woken up to whimpers, kicks, tears, and screams all night, not minding at all until the morning came and he actually had to get out of bed and do things. "Yakov set aside some time in the afternoon for us tomorrow. Just us."

Yuuri nodded, his exhaustion taking hold of his mind and not releasing it.

"Sleep." Viktor whispered the unneeded command into the top of Yuuri's head. Moments later, Yuuri's breathing evened out, forcing Viktor to very willingly carry him inside when they arrived home.

Rather than go all the way upstairs, Viktor let Yuuri down on the couch, arranging them so Yuuri's head was in his lap. Makka curled up at Viktor's feet, falling asleep himself in less than five minutes. Viktor just stared into space, mindlessly running his fingers through Yuuri's hair as he slept, peacefully. It could have been minutes or hours later when the front door opened and the rest of the current residents of the house came in.

Viktor turned to the door as quickly and gently as possible, holding a finger to his lips and gesturing to the sleeping Yuuri in his lap.

"How'd the appointment go?" Yurio asked as soon as his skating bag was discarded to the floor.

"He's cleared, we're going to the rink tomorrow." Viktor smiled as the trio came into the living room. Otabek lowered himself into an armchair, dragging a blushing but grinning Yurio by the waist to sit in his lap. Phichit plopped himself on the floor next to Makka, immediately gaining a blanket made of poodle.

"That's great!" Phichit's whisper was possibly the loudest whisper Viktor had ever heard, although that could have been because he was hypersensitive to sounds when Yuuri was sleeping. Especially now, when it had been so long since he'd slept soundly for more than a couple of hours.

"You guys had a hell of a night." Yurio observed the sleeping Yuuri and the bags under Viktor's eyes.

"Yeah, nightmares again." Viktor rubbed at his eyes, only succeeding in increasing the desire to keep them closed.

"We heard." Otabek nodded.

"Sorry." Viktor cringed, feeling horrible for inviting their friends to stay only to keep them awake at night.

"It's cool." Phichit grinned as he scratched Makka's head. "Nothing you can do about it."

"Unfortunately." Viktor sighed.

"Hey," Yurio snapped, "we'll figure it out."

Viktor nodded and smiled at the angry Russian boy, loving how mature he suddenly was, but hating how they'd come to that point. Viktor found himself agreeing with Yurio much more frequently than ever before. "We will." He nodded. "We will."


	15. Return

"You ready?" Viktor slipped into his coat as Yuuri tugged on his running shoes. A small nod was sent Viktor's way, and he smiled. He hadn't been to the rink in three weeks, too nervous to leave Yuuri alone after outburst when Viktor had gone to the police station. "Well our time starts soon, we should get going." Yuuri rose and met Viktor's eyes, tying their fingers together as he slung his skating bag over his shoulder.

"You really don't want me to come?" Yurio suddenly appeared in the foyer, Otabek and Phichit not far behind. He too was anxious about Yuuri leaving his sight. It was okay when he and Viktor were going to the doctor, or just staying home, but the rink… Yuuri fell a lot when he wasn't injured, what if something happened?

"No, we'll be okay." Viktor saw Yuuri's expression and smiled down at Yurio; Yuuri needed to be as alone as possible when he returned to skating.

"Are you sure? I-"

"Yura." Otabek placed a hand on the shorter boy's shoulder, getting the message across loud and clear.

"Fine…" Yurio gave in, melting into Otabek's chest. "Call if you need anything."

Viktor smirked at how much Yurio's demeanor could change with a single touch from Otabek. It seemed he might finally be beginning to understand love. "Trust me, you'll be the first to know if anything happens."

"Hey!" Phichit piped up, mocking anger. "What about me? Why is he priority?"

"Because he'll beat me up if I don't call him first, you won't." Viktor chuckled along with Phichit, and Otabek smirked at Yurio's scowl. "Besides, nothing is going to happen." Viktor assured, squeezing Yuuri's hand.

"You're right." Phichit smiled at Yuuri, who was much less caved in on himself than he had been in the past couple of weeks. Getting back to the rink would be good for him. "Have fun."

Yuuri nodded while Viktor waved and ushered them both out the door.

"Are you excited?" Viktor asked as they set out for the rink, enjoying the mild afternoon air.

Yuuri shrugged back, not sure what he was feeling. Excited, sure, he hadn't skated in a few weeks. But there were nerves in there too. And something close to dread. Why would he be dreading going back on the ice? It was the one thing he loved to do more than anything else. Well, almost anything else. Cuddling with Viktor and Makka trumped falling out of a quad flip any day.

"Nervous?" Viktor squeezed Yuuri's hand, wishing for Yuuri to look over and meet his eyes. All he got was a nod, while Yuuri continued to stare straight ahead. "It'll be fine. Like Dr. Tanaka said, we just have to start slow and work our way back up."

Yuuri nodded again, and the two spent the rest of their walk in silence.

"Vitya, it's been too long." Yakov greeted in both a friendly and threatening way. It was strange that his voice could express two polar opposite emotions at once, but Viktor and Yuuri had become accustomed to it, and didn't think much of it. "How are you feeling, Katsuki?"

Yuuri shrugged, heading into the change room before further questioning.

"He hasn't been able to speak." Viktor's hands were suddenly in his hair, gathering tight fistfuls, a few strands ripping out at the roots. "He hasn't been able to eat, he's been panicking every day, I don't know how to help him!"

"Calm down, Vitya." Yakov quickly gathered his skater in a tight embrace, feeling the man in his arms shaking. "You're doing what you can, and what you're doing is enough."

"It's not." Viktor semi-collapsed into Yakov, realising he hadn't vented about this to anyone. He hadn't realised he'd needed to vent until now.

"Yes, it is." Yakov pulled Viktor closer, remembering how Viktor had told Yuuri that hugging him would make everything okay. He hoped for Viktor's sanity that that had been a true statement. "Yuri has been keeping me updated, he's made progress thanks to you."

"I know, but-"

"No buts. He has. Progress is progress, no matter how insignificant it may seem. You know Yuri is there for you right? Otabek and Phichit too. Let them help you."

Viktor nodded, pushing away from Yakov. "I should go…"

"I have some paperwork to deal with but I'll see you on the ice later." Yakov nodded, watching Viktor for a moment before he set off in the opposite direction, back to the office.

"Yuuri." Viktor smiled, feeling better after talking to Yakov. Letting it out. Yuuri had already gotten his skates on, and was layering his warmup jacket over his sweatshirt. "Wait for me? I just had to talk to Yakov." Viktor plopped down on the bench next to Yuuri after receiving his nod. It took Viktor no time to lace his skates and dig his warmup jacket out of his bag, and the two were soon making their way to the ice, water bottles and cellphones in hand. Viktor hooked up his phone to the sound system, letting some classical music filter through the arena on a low volume. Yuuri took off his skate guards, gently placing them on the rink barrier next to his water and notebook. Viktor did the same, flashing his golden blades in the crappy overhead light.

"Ready?" Viktor held out his hand for Yuuri to take, and together they stepped onto the ice.


	16. Selfish

Yuuri's ankles shook at first, more from fear of losing balance than an actual lack of balance. He latched firmly onto Viktor's hand, terrified to let go.

"You're okay." Viktor smiled, locking eyes with his fiancé. "You're cleared, you're a fantastic skater, and I'm right here."

Yuuri nodded, following Viktor's lead as they slowly began skating around the edge of the rink. Muscle memory soon took over, and Yuuri found his fingers separating from Viktor's. He picked up some speed, gliding in a steady ark across the ice. Viktor gazed after him, grinning at the small smile that fought its way onto Yuuri's face. He moved across the ice so beautifully. There was almost no need for spins or leaps. Viktor could have watched Yuuri just skate in circles all day.

Fifteen minutes later the two shed their jackets, feeling content with their low intensity warmup.

"You ready to work on some technique?" Viktor smiled to Yuuri as they grabbed a quick sip of water. Yuuri shrugged, scrawling a note on his pad and turning it around.

 **Step sequences maybe?**

"Sounds good to me." Viktor smiled, feeling warmth spread through him as Yuuri skated off, experimenting with simple chasses, getting used to the ice again. It was strange how much three weeks in bed could throw a person out of their element. Viktor gazed across the ice, following the beautiful body as Yuuri upped the complexity, working his crossed chasse around the rink. Viktor just watched for a while, entranced by Yuuri's movement as his footwork gradually became more complex. In no time, he was moving through his free program step sequence from the year prior. Viktor wasn't sure where it had come from, the sudden look of calm, the seemingly returned confidence, until he heard the composition. _Yuuri on Ice_ was fluttering through the rink, and Yuuri was instinctively moving to the music, eyes glazed over, an almost-smile on his lips. Viktor watched, unable to take his eyes off of Yuuri.

The movement was beautiful, more beautiful than the video Viktor had seen of Yuuri doing his program. More beautiful than Eros. More beautiful than his silver medal performance at the Grand Prix Finals.

Viktor was entranced.

Unfortunately, so was Yuuri.

Neither of them thought anything of it when Yuuri took off for his quad flip.

Viktor could see the fall coming from a mile away.

Yuuri bailed after his first rotation, eyes wide, suddenly forgetting everything he knew about safely falling out of jumps. As soon as his blades hit the ice, his arms instinctively shot out to keep his head from connecting with anything, saving him from an even more painful landing.

Viktor watched as Yuuri hit the ice, feet first, sliding on his stomach, hitting the nearby barrier with a thud.

"Yuuri!" he called, speeding towards his fiancé, fear bubbling in his core. "Are you okay, my love?" Viktor blew snow at the barrier and dropped to the ground, where Yuuri was sitting, looking dazed. He nodded though, looking more shaken up than injured. "Are you hurt?"

Yuuri shook his head.

"Don't scare me like that." Without thinking, Viktor pulled Yuuri into a tight embrace, sighing with relief when Yuuri melted into him. "How about you take a break?" Viktor suggested. He felt the nod against his shoulder, and helped Yuuri up, holding his hand firmly as they skated to the edge of the rink. "Do we need to leave?" Viktor asked as he helped Yuuri to a bench.

 **No, you practice for a while, I'd like to watch.** Yuuri wrote back, having grabbed his notebook and water as they passed.

"Okay, I think we only have the rink for another hour." Viktor observed the time. "Gives me time for my step sequence."

Yuuri chugged half of his water and shed his skates as Viktor skated off, working through the intricate footwork that he had been working on nearly a month prior.

Yuuri gazed over the rink, not really absorbing Viktor's movement the way he usual did. Viktor wasn't as captivating as usual. He was distracted. By Yuuri.

 _"_ _Why…?"_ Yuuri's mind began to wander. _"Why did this have to happen? Why did I let them go through with it? I'm pathetic. Useless. I'm a burden to them. No matter how much they say I'm not, I know they're lying. They just don't want to make me feel worse than I already do. If this had happened to Viktor or Yurio- NO! No, I don't even want to think about that! But… would they feel like this? No. They're stronger. Hell, Minami would probably react better… none of them would have let it happen. They would have been smart and fought back. I just froze. Panicked. I let them do it. I let it happen. This is all my fault. And now Viktor is out of it, Yurio is being nice to me, Phichit and Otabek are missing out on training. Why?! Why didn't I fight back?! WHY DIDN'T THEY JUST KILL ME?!_

 _"_ _Wait. No."_ Yuuri shook his head, realising his fists were wound a little too tightly in his hair, not doing anything to change it _. "No, no. I don't want to be dead. Well… NO! Don't think like that!_

 _"…_ _Should I tell someone about this? No. That would just be more shit piled on top of the shit I've already put on everyone. They don't need more of my problems on their shoulders. They shouldn't have any of my problems on their shoulders. Why am I so GODDAMN SELFISH?!"_

"Yuuri, are you okay?" Viktor cautiously approached, concerned that Yuuri hadn't moved in the hour he had been skating. Yuuri's head snapped up at the sound of Viktor's voice, tears were streaming down his cheeks, but he nodded. "Why are you crying?" Viktor sat down on the bench, grabbing Yuuri's hand, concern written in bold across his forehead.

Yuuri looked confused for a moment, lifting a hand to his cheek, feeling the steady drip. He scrambled for his notebook, wiggling out of Viktor's grasp.

 **It's nothing.**

"It's not nothing." Viktor shook his head, refusing to let it go. "People don't cry because of nothing."

 **Sometimes they do.**

"Okay." Viktor submitted, seeing anger beginning to replace the blank stare he had previously been receiving. "Okay. Are you ready to go? It's going to get crowded soon."

Yuuri nodded, wiping away the rest of his tears and following Viktor to the change room.

 _"_ _There I go again, making people worry… God can't I do anything right?!"_


	17. Fear

The walk home was silent. Not a comfortable silence, like before when Viktor and Yuuri would just lay on the couch together and exist. It was an apprehensive, thick feeling silence, tension rolling off of Yuuri and crashing into Viktor, keeping them at opposite ends of the sidewalk. Yuuri stared at the ground, not breaking eye contact with the cracked pavement and occasional blade of grass. Viktor kept glancing at Yuuri, wishing for his fiancé's tears to stop, and wishing to know why they were still falling. Or why they'd begun falling in the first place.

"How'd it go?" Yurio was in the foyer almost before Yuuri and Viktor had crossed the threshold, Phichit not far behind. Otabek stayed slightly back, still not completely comfortable with the whole situation. "Yuuri, what's…" Yurio was cut off by a tear-filled death glare, a look he'd never received from Yuuri.

"You guys okay…?" Phichit took a step back as he asked, wanting a head start if he needed it.

"Yeah." Viktor nodded, not quite believing his own response. "Why don't you go shower, I'll be up soon." Viktor suggested. Yuuri didn't even nod, just turned on his heel and stalked slowly upstairs, feeling four pairs of eyes staring after him.

"Viktor…?" Phichit asked, once Yuuri was out of earshot and the water was running upstairs.

He ran a hand through his silver hair with a sigh before answering. "I don't know what happened. Well… maybe I know part of it? We were skating, his free program music from last year came on, and he started performing it. He wasn't thinking about it, went for the quad flip and bailed. He didn't seem hurt, but I made him sit for the rest of the time while I practiced. When I got off the ice, he was crying and wouldn't tell me why. He said it was nothing but…"

"Damn…" Phichit sighed, chewing on his lower lip. "Not this again…"

"What?" Yurio perked up, demanding an answer in the simple word. "Not what again?"

"He did this sometimes in Detroit." Phichit partially collapsed into the wall, breathing heavily. "I'd walk past him in the kitchen or something and he'd be staring at the wall, an hour or so later I'd come back and he would be in the same position, still just staring. Sometimes he would be crying. When he came out of it, he'd tell me it was nothing at first and get really defensive about it; later he would tell me what was bothering him, and it was always really bad."

"Like what?" Viktor demanded, immediately fearing the worst.

Phichit pinched the bridge of his nose, all of his usual chipper cheer gone. "Usually he was picturing hurting himself, or thinking about… suicide…" His voice was barely a whisper, but in Viktor's ears it sounded like a steamboat's horn. Deafening. Too close for comfort. "He never did any of that stuff, I didn't let him. Just… we need to keep an eye on him. All of us."

Everyone nodded, mostly too shocked to do anything. To hear that Yuuri had had these thoughts made Viktor feel like someone was tearing his insides apart, shredding them into spaghetti, devouring them along with any remanence of Viktor's happiness as the sauce. A deep, dull ache settled somewhere in his torso, reaching out to every edge of his skin, making him feel nauseated.

"What would you do, when he did that?" Otabek seemed to be the only one capable of forming a coherent thought. "To snap him out of it?"

"Usually just talking to him would work. If not then making a loud sound like clapping in his face. That was only when he was really lost in his own head, though."

"Yurio?" Viktor caught a glimpse of the sparkle that fell from the younger boy's chin to the ground at his feet. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Yurio kept his face to the ground, but his defiant voice cracked under the pressure.

"Yura." Otabek pressed. "People don't cry over nothing."

"Sometimes they do."

Viktor felt as though the words had physically punched him in the stomach. The same words he and Yuuri had exchanged at the rink earlier.

"Yeah, but you don't." Otabek opened his arms and Yurio nuzzled into his chest, heaving a shaking sigh.

"I'm scared." The words tumbled past his lips with no permission from his brain. He hadn't even been sure what the problem was until he voiced it aloud. But once he said it, it was undoubtedly true. He was terrified.

"What are you scared of?" Viktor reached out a hand and rested it on Yurio's shoulder, assuming it was probably the same thing he was afraid of.

"I don't want to… no… no I _can't_ lose him." Yurio sunk deeper into Otabek, letting the tears flow more freely.

"Hey." Phichit snapped. "We're not losing him. If I managed to keep both of us alive in Detroit, the four of us together can manage it no problem."

"Viktor, I think you should look into getting a therapist." Otabek suggested.

"How is he going to see a therapist if he can't even speak?" Yurio piped up from Otabek's t-shirt, not bothering to lift his head.

"I meant for Viktor." Otabek clarified. "You too. It's been rough on you, Yura."

"I'm fine." Yuri lifted his face, revealing just how not fine he was.

"You're not." Otabek shook his head. "It will do you some good. And you might get some new ideas on how to help Yuuri."

"I'll look into it." Viktor nodded. "For you too, Yuri."

Yurio just nodded, staying latched onto Otabek like a koala, while the rest of them stood in silence. A mutual feeling of anxiety emanated from everyone, settling somewhere in the centre of their blob-like circle, as all of them feared for what the future may have held.


	18. Remember

**Hey guys, so sorry about the document error with this one, I honestly have no idea what happened... thanks to the people who let me know!**

 **I believe I've fixed the problem, but if it's still gibberish, let me know and I'll see what else I can do.**

 **Also, while I have your attention! If you're in need of another angsty Yuri! on Ice Story, check out YuriKasuki1's amazing story, _Never Forget me_. They've had nothing but support for me through my journey with _Dancing on Broken Glass_ thus far, and their story has literally had me in tears since the very beginning. Go show them some love!**

 **Anyways, happy reading,**

 **~Ace**

* * *

"Are you feeling better?" Viktor slowly came into the dark room, taking in the hunched over form of Yuuri on the edge of the bed. Yuuri just peered up at him through strings of still damp black hair. "Ready to talk yet?" Yuuri's gaze dipped again, settling somewhere ahead of his toes on the carpeted floor. "Okay then I'll talk."

Viktor closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of the bed next to Yuuri, offering his shoulder to the younger man. It melted Viktor's heart when Yuuri snuggled into him, no longer pushing him away. Accepting the love and support Viktor housed.

"Phichit told me you used to do this in Detroit when you got super stressed…" Viktor began, feeling Yuuri tense beneath his arm. "Yuuri… When you spaced out today… Were you thinking about… hurting yourself?"

Yuuri took a deep breath, his ribs expanding against Viktor's, bringing them closer. It felt nice to be so close. Yuuri wondered why he'd ever stopped accepting the touch, refusing to remember. He shook his head.

"What were you thinking about?" Viktor pressed, unable to voice the second option Phichit had supplied him with. A few moments passed, Viktor waiting for a response while Yuuri worked up the courage to grab his notebook. Once the stack of paper was in his hands, he would have no choice but to tell Viktor where his mind had been. He really didn't want to burden him any more than he already had. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

"Yuuri." Viktor whispered, handing him the notebook that had been within arm's reach for the ten slow breaths they'd shared.

Yuuri slipped out from under Viktor's comforting arm, cold air latching onto his skin that had been warmed by shared body heat, making him shiver. He thought carefully before formulating his response, writing it even more guardedly than his planning.

 **I was thinking that things would have been so much easier if they had just killed me. For everyone.**

Viktor's eyes widened and he found himself at a loss for words as his eyes widened in the dark. His jaw was slack, unable to form any kind of structure that could have been useful for producing sounds, tongue nearly lolling out between his teeth. It had been one thing to hear Phichit say it, but to read those words from Yuuri himself…

"Y…" Viktor swallowed, trying to dampen his dry throat and send the lump back down to his stomach. "Yuuri… what would make you think that?" he made sure to keep his voice level, no matter how much he wanted to just sob and hold Yuuri so tightly they would meld into one person.

 **I've caused nothing but problems. You guys don't need that weight on your shoulders. You're all acting different because of me. I hate it.**

"No." Viktor shook his head, cupping Yuuri's now slick cheeks in his hands. "No, no, no, Yuuri. If you were… gone… none of us would know what to do with ourselves." Viktor surprised himself at how level and soft his voice was. Inside he was screaming, kicking, shaking all over, but outside he was cool and collected, not even letting a tear slip. He had no idea how it was happening, but it was, and Viktor took it, not giving it much thought. "If I lost you, Yuuri, I would lose a part of myself. A part that was missing for a long time. You complete me, my love. I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love you. You have to know that. I don't know how else to show you. What else can I do to show you?"

 **You don't have to do anything. I just need to remember.**

Yuuri was suddenly holding onto Viktor as tightly as Viktor had been imagining a few seconds prior, and he followed suit. The two just held each other, squeezed the life out of each other, lungs expanding and hearts pounding in sync. They stayed like that, tangled in each other's arms for hours, locking the world outside of their bubble.

"Feeling better?" Viktor whispered into Yuuri's hair a while after they had cried themselves out. Yuuri didn't answer, still tightly attached to Viktor in his sleep. "I love you, Yuuri." Viktor whispered again as he gently untangled Yuuri's arms and lay him down, tucking him in snuggly and planting a soft kiss on his forehead. "I'll be back soon."

"How is he?" Yurio, Phichit, and Otabek spoke in complete unison as Viktor came into the living room.

"Sleeping." Viktor sighed as he sat heavily into the couch opposite Phichit. Yurio and Otabek were tangled together in a comfy armchair partway across the room. "He told me he thinks it would have been easier if they had killed him."

"What the hell kind of a thought is that?!" Yurio growled, voicing everyone in the room's thoughts. "Doesn't he know how stupidly in love with him you are?"

"And how much you care about and look up to him." Otabek added, pulling the squirming Yurio closer.

"And how much I would miss him." Phichit pulled his knees up to his chest, trying not to let the shine in his eyes show in the dim light.

"And how devastated his family would be, and how much I would hate myself for it, and that… and that I would rather… rather die than live without him!" Viktor shocked himself with his last comment, but everyone in the room knew it was true as soon as the words tumbled out of his mouth.

"He knows all of that." Phichit was the first to break the silence. "He does. He gets lost in his thoughts. Always has. He just needs to remember how much he's loved. We have to remind him."

"I'm trying." Viktor couldn't pinpoint the exact moment that he'd started crying, but the tears dripped, quick and steady off his chin. "I'm really trying."

"I know, the rest of us need to try too. Honestly… I've been kind of nervous to approach him. Seeing how closed off he is… I need to get out of my head and think of him."

"I don't know how." Yurio shook his head. "You've all seen me in social situations, I don't know how to control my temper."

"You do around me." Otabek pointed out. "We can work on your temper, you can help him. Easy as that."

"Thank you, everyone." Viktor defiantly wiped his tears, refusing to relish in his pity party any longer. "You've done more than I could ever ask."

"Hey, you're not the only one who cares about him." Phichit regained his cheeky grin, always seeing the light in dark situations.

"I know." Viktor smirked back. "It's late, we should probably head to bed soon."

After a round of goodnights, Viktor was back in the spare room with Yuuri. He so badly missed how Yuuri used to snuggle up to him if Viktor had come to bed late, but he could deal with the lack of cuddles. He could deal with anything. Anything life threw at them, Viktor and Yuuri could handle.

"That's what love is," Viktor whispered, both to himself and his sleeping fiancé, hoping Yuuri could hear him on some level of his subconscious, "kicking life in the face and getting over any hurdles it throws. I love you, Yuuri Katsuki. That will never change."


	19. Never

Yuuri stumbled through the darkness, unable to call out, unable to run, vision blotted out by the inky blackness.

 _"_ _Where am I?"_ he wondered, panic rising in his throat. The pitch-black room made him feel claustrophobic, like the walls were closing in on him. Although, the walls could have been miles apart, and he would never know, considering he couldn't see three inches in front of his face. _"WHERE AM I?!"_

"Yuuri…" A voice called out through the thick lack of light. A voice that sent chills down Yuuri's spine and caused goose bumps to shoot up along his arms. The voice that had ruined his life. "Yuuri, come here, I'll protect you." The voice chuckled, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

 _"_ _NO!"_ Yuuri screamed back, but only in his head. His feet moved first, speeding in the direction that he hoped to god was away from the man. He wouldn't be caught again. He wouldn't be put through it again. Never. Never again would he give up and submit. Never.

"Yuuriiii!" the laugh was stronger, the voice louder. That was when Yuuri realised it was in his head. His running was useless, but still his feet carried on. Pounding against the cold floor, carrying him blindly through the shadows, running from his own mind.

 _"_ _Viktor!"_ he screamed for his fiancé, knowing full well he wouldn't be heard. The call was only audible to himself. _"VIKTOR HELP!"_

Yuuri's feet were suddenly stopped by the rest of him running into a wall. So he'd found it, the end of the darkness, and bounced off of it. Yuuri stayed sprawled, chest heaving, lungs burning, legs shaking. He'd reached the limits of his own head. This was it, the wall he hit when he zoned out. The wall he couldn't crack. The wall his voice was trapped behind. The wall that held his love and confidence captive. The wall he needed to get through to be him again.

Yuuri was suddenly on his feet again, pounding against the wall that was just more darkness to his unseeing eyes. He kicked, punched, threw his body into the mass of solid darkness, all while the voice kept laughing in his ear.

 _"_ _GIVE. ME. MY. LIFE. BACK!"_ Yuuri threw himself against the wall one last time and jolted into a sitting position, heart racing, sweat pouring, lungs burning, legs shaking, head spinning. He couldn't see. The room was too dark just like it had been only seconds before.

 _"_ _Viktor."_ Yuuri's mind could form only one thought. _"I need Viktor."_

But when he reached out to connect with the only man who could calm his breath and lower his blood pressure, Viktor wasn't there. Nobody was. He was alone, in the dark.

 _"_ _NO!"_ Yuuri was flying before he knew what was going on. Out the door of the dark room, into the hall, down the stairs and right into a smaller body.

"Yuuri?" Yurio tried his best to hold onto the panicking man, wanting to know what was wrong and how to fix it, but with one shove Yuuri's adrenaline overpowered Yurio and sent him sprawling on the stairs. "Yuuri!" Yurio called as Yuuri continued sprinting and somehow managed to fly out the door. "Shit! Viktor! Beka Phichit!" Yurio screamed, picking himself up off the stairs, ignoring the ache in his side.

"What happened?" Otabek was the first one down the stairs and the one that kept Yurio from bolting away before everyone had answers. Viktor and Phichit nearly ran into each other in the hall as the silver haired man shot out of the bathroom across from the master bedroom.

"What's going on?" Viktor demanded before he was down the stairs.

"Yuuri ran off!" Yurio was still futilely trying to tug his wrist away from Otabek, who seemed to be bent on keeping him rooted to the spot. "I don't know where he- Viktor!" Yurio called again as the man flew straight past him and out the door. "Goddammit Beka, LET ME GO AFTER THEM!"

"Here!" Phichit handed Yurio a piece of paper torn from the notepad he had found on the end table. "We'll split up, call me when you find either of them!" and with that Phichit was out the door.

"Come on." Otabek grunted. "If you'd calmed down for one second you would have noticed Phichit was being smart."

"How the hell do you expect me to be calm when Yuuri's panic attacks suddenly include blind midnight sprinting?!" Yurio growled back as he and Beka started jogging in the opposite direction Phichit had gone.

"How do you expect to do any good when we can't contact one another?"

"Fine." Yurio grunted, facing forward. "YUURI! VIKTOR!"

 **.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.**

 _"_ _Where am I going?"_ Yuuri's mind was running nearly as fast as his feet were carrying him. He flew through the familiar streets, not seeing anything through his panicked haze. " _Why am I running? Stop!"_ but he continued, bare feet stinging against the cold sidewalk, probably bleeding from shards of glass and other various pieces of litter.

Yuuri ran, unable to control his body as his brain worked on autopilot, knowing only that it had to get away from something. However, that something was itself. Yuuri's fears were in only his head. There was no real threat. The only thing freaking him out was himself. But that fact did nothing to soothe his rapid flow of terror.

Yuuri ran.

It must have been great distance for he began to sweat and pant. His stamina was too impressive for his lungs to begin to give out in less than two kilometers, although he _was_ sprinting. He didn't usually do that for more than five hundred meters.

Yuuri ran.

Was that the rink he just passed? How did he manage that? Hadn't he started off in the opposite direction? Or had he?

Yuuri ran.

Right into a pair of strong arms.

His feet stilled, his lungs thanked him for stopping, his chest heaved and ached from the exertion.

The warm body held him close and gave him a chance to catch his breath before breaking the silence.

"You're safe with me, Yuuri."


	20. Memories

"YUURI! VIKTOR!" Phichit ignored the pounding in his chest as he pushed his legs to keep moving. Skating for hours on end didn't bother him nearly as much as running barefoot through the dark, barren streets. He wasn't even fully awake but his eyes were wide, searching for his friends, hoping to any deity that he would find them together, Yuuri calmed down and Viktor guarding against the demons that were haunting him. Phichit's heart was pounding both from exertion and anxiety. To his knowledge, Yuuri had only done this once before, and when Phichit had found him it hadn't been pretty.

 _Phichit jogged up to the door of the rink, glad to finally be done classes and ready to work on his jumps; they'd been lacking at the last couple of practices and if he wanted a chance to compete with Yuuri at the GPF one day, he needed to step it up. Just before he reached the door, however, a gust of wind whipped past him, accompanied by a blur of familiar black hair. "Yuuri?" Phichit turned on his heel, confused as to why Yuuri was sprinting away from the rink, and in the opposite direction of their shared apartment._

 _"_ _Yuuri!" Celestino suddenly filled the doorway Phichit was next to, a worried look on his face._

 _"_ _What happened?" Phichit demanded, not liking the expression his coach wore._

 _"_ _Michael was just rushed to the hospital, he was unconscious and a bone was sticking out of his leg. Yuuri saw him fall. He was the only other person in the arena at the time."_

 _"_ _Oh my god, Michael…" Phichit thoughts momentarily turned to their younger rink mate, an incredible skater of only sixteen, one who could put anyone's jumps to shame. "How did he do it?"_

 _"_ _All I could get out of Yuuri was some mumbling about how he should have noticed the blades were loose. That and his quad loop was nearly perfect."_

 _"_ _Shit." Phichit hissed, dropping his bag at Celestino's feet. "I need to find him."_

 _"_ _Phichit? Hey! Where are you going?!" Celestino called out for his skater to return, clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation at hand. Yuuri only rambled like that and acted so rashly when he was having a panic attack. And now he was running blind through the streets of Detroit, which was arguably not a safe decision._

 _"_ _Yuuri!" Phichit called for his best friend, hoping his voice cut through the horns and other unsettling noises of the streets. "YUURI!"_

 _Phichit's feet pounded nearly as hard as his heart as he gasped for air, refusing to stop moving until he found Yuuri. He tried calling his friend multiple times, to no avail. His phone was probably abandoned in the change room, where it should be during practice. Why did Yuuri have to follow the rules so well? Why couldn't he be like Phichit and keep his phone in his pocket while he was on the ice?_

 _Nearly half an hour of sprinting later, Phichit doubled over, hands on his knees, chest heaving, coughing and shaking, trying to remind his lungs how to breathe. He was used to running long distances, but not at full speed. His ten-kilometer cardio routine consisted of much more jogging and barely any sprints._

 _"_ _Yuuri…" Phichit choked out between laboured breaths, not really knowing where he was or how he intended to find his friend. However, luck was on Phichit's side. Phichit looked up from the sidewalk, moving to lean on the wall of the alley he was next to so he could catch his breath without being in anyone's way. A few minutes after he stepped into the darkness, Phichit's breathing calmed down and the pounding in his head settled, making it easier to hear the world around him. What he did hear both broke his pounding heart and made him smile._

 _"_ _Yuuri?" Phichit followed the quiet mumbling, recognizing the voice immediately._

 _"_ _All my fault. Should have noticed. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. All my fault." Yuuri had his knees hugged to his chest, rocking himself back and forth in the dirty, dingy alley._

 _"_ _Yuuri can you hear me? It's Phichit." He slowly lowered himself in Yuuri's line of vision, trying not to startle his friend. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"_

 _"_ _It's all my fault." Yuuri looked straight into Phichit's eyes, not comprehending that it was Phichit he was talking to. "I'm sorry, I'm so SORRY!" Yuuri lunged at Phichit, latching onto him, shaking. Phichit held him just as tightly, telling him it wasn't his fault, that Michael would be okay, that he didn't need to feel bad._

 _They stayed like that for a while, Yuuri gradually calming down and realising what he was doing._

 _"_ _I'm sorry." He suddenly let go of Phichit, backing away, hoping Phichit wasn't too angry with him._

 _"_ _Don't be." Phichit smiled, glad to see Yuuri back to normal. "You okay?"_

 _"_ _Not really…" Phichit was the only person Yuuri would ever admit it to. Anyone else would think he was weak, but not Phichit. Phichit understood. That didn't mean Yuuri could cry into his chest all day though, he probably didn't enjoy that… "Michael fell, I was the only one there. Celestino didn't hear me yelling for a while. I just sat there, useless." Yuuri began to tear up, remembering the snap, the thump, the blood. So much blood. "He took off for a quad loop, the entry was wobbly so he didn't get the height he needed. Landed at the wrong angle and kept rotating. His bone popped right out."_

 _"_ _Yuuri…" Phichit breathed, trying not to picture the scene. "I'm sorry you had to see that…"_

 _"_ _It was my fault…" Yuuri ran a still-trembling hand through his hair, tugging lightly at the back, making himself focus._

 _"_ _How could you possibly think that?" Phichit was nothing short of flabbergasted. If Michael botched his jump that was on him, no matter how much it sucked._

 _"_ _I handed him his skates in the change room. I should have noticed the blades were loose."_

 _"_ _That's not on you, Yuuri." Phichit snapped. He wasn't going to let Yuuri get this down on himself for something he had absolutely no control over. "He should have had them tightened more often."_

 _"_ _But-"_

 _"_ _Listen to me. This is not your fault. If I handed you your skates and you fell would it be my fault?"_

 _"_ _No! Of course not. But-"_

 _"_ _Well then it's not your fault. We're done with this blame game. I'm calling Celestino to come pick us up." Phichit pulled out his phone. "He's worried sick about the three of us." He mused as he read the multitude of texts he'd received from the coach._

 _"_ _Phichit! Did you find him?" Celestino practically yelled before the phone even rang once._

 _"_ _Yeah, I found him, he's okay. Any chance you could pick us up?" Phichit gave him their approximate location, peering out of the alley to read street signs._

 _"_ _How on earth did you get all the way out there?!"_

 _"_ _We… ran…"_

 _"_ _That far? I'm coming now, stay there."_

 _"_ _He's on his way." Phichit chuckled at his coach's tone as he shoved his cell phone back in his pocket. "Hey, talk to me."_

 _Yuuri didn't bother looking up from the ground where his eyes were trained. "I'm just worried."_

 _"_ _I know, me too." Phichit agreed. "We'll go to the hospital to see him."_

Phichit shuddered at his memory, knowing how far Yuuri could run and how dangerous empty streets could be. His legs kept moving, running only at half speed to conserve energy, learning from his mistake last time. All he wanted was for his best friend to be okay.

"YUURI!"

"Phichit!" he stopped dead in his tracks, glad for the excuse.

"Oh thank god, you don't know how happy I am to see you!" Phichit exclaimed as he turned on his heel and met Viktor's eyes. The silver haired man was breathing hard as he rounded the corner Phichit had passed moments before.

"I take it you don't know where Yuuri is." Viktor doubled over, hands on his knees, body heaving with each breath.

"Considering I'm not too sure where we are…" Phichit shook his head.

"Dammit…"

"Hey." Phichit's heart broke when Viktor looked up and made his tear-streaked cheeks visible. "We'll find him. I promise."


	21. Luck

"What were you doing up anyway?" Otabek threw the question through the wind as he and Yurio jogged around the streets of St. Petersburg, feet pounding, lungs beginning to sting. Going for a run straight out of bed wasn't ideal. Doing so at three in the morning without a jacket or shoes was even less so. Nobody had thought to put shoes on when they'd left, and they were probably all regretting it now, but that was besides the point.

"Couldn't sleep, was getting a drink." Yurio shrugged, keeping his eyes wide in the cold darkness of three A.M.

"We're lucky you were awake, we might not have known otherwise."

"Sure." Yurio couldn't quite believe anything about this situation was lucky. Yuuri was running around the streets, panicking, blind and scared. When he came down from it, he would be terrified and probably lost, which would almost definitely send him into another anxiety attack. Or worse. "YUURI! VIKTOR!" Yurio called out again, making Otabek flinch. He knew the blonde was loud, but for such a booming voice to come out of such a small person, it really was impressive, albeit mildly startling.

"We'll find him." Otabek couldn't take his eyes off of Yurio's. The usually stoic, mildly angry, definitely not approachable eyes had been replaced with a look of vulnerability. A soldier after war. Tired and afraid. All he wanted to do was snuggle up with his Yura under a warm blanket, hold him close and shut out the rest of the world for a while. He was too young to deal with so much. Too young to be so mature.

"I know." Yurio nodded, eyes forward, head forward, moving forward. Forward progress. Truth be told, he couldn't imagine a situation where they didn't find Yuuri. What concerned him was how he would find him. Would he be collapsed in a heap, tired of running? Or maybe curled into a ball crying because he was alone and afraid and confused? Or was the scene that Yurio kept picturing accurate?

He fought tears, trying to make the looping vision stop. It was too real, too gruesome, too vivid… more like a memory than an imagined image. It was genuinely terrifying.

"Spill." Otabek demanded, not caring that they would lose their breath faster if they talked. Yurio was about to cry, and Otabek needed to know why.

"I keep picturing him… running into the road and getting hit by a car." Yurio admitted, refusing to give into the stinging behind his eyes.

Otabek had to admit that thought had crossed his mind. "He won't do that."

"You've seen how he gets when he's panicking. He doesn't think. He wouldn't do it on purpose but…"

"Yura." Otabek snapped, needing to pull him out of his head before he got lost in thought and fell. That would only make him feel guilty about losing time that could be used to search. "He won't. We'll probably find him passed out from exhaustion somewhere."

"I hope so." Yurio forced the image out of his mind, choosing to instead focus on the memory of Yuuri moving into first place at the grand prix finals after the free skate. The looks of pure joy on his and Viktor's faces. The looks he hadn't seen in so long…

"This way." Yurio suddenly took a sharp left, leaving Otabek stumbling for a moment before he was able to chase after the blonde.

"Yura! A little more notice next time!" Otabek called as he sped up to catch Yurio.

"Sorry, I just know where we are." Yurio's eyes changed, a thought having crossed his mind.

"Where are we and where are we going?"

"We're close to the rink." Yurio slowed a bit, waiting for Otabek to fully catch up. "It's a long shot but…"

"No, it's a good idea." Otabek nodded as he reached Yurio's side. "We don't have any other ideas so why not follow this one?"

"My thoughts exactly. Right at the next corner."

Otabek stayed a few paces behind Yurio, following the directions that he called out every couple of blocks. Neither could deny that their eyes wandered over the cracked asphalt of the road more than a few times; especially whenever a car passed by. In fact, it was one of those times that Otabek found himself staring at the dark ground, searching for a body, hoping to god he wouldn't find one, that he found himself hitting an uneven patch of sidewalk and sprawling across the concrete with a grunt.

"Beka!" Yurio was on the ground next to him in a second, assessing the damage. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Yura." Otabek got to his knees, taking in his road burned forearm.

"You're not." Yurio gently took Otabek's right hand and elbow, turning his arm so he could see the painful looking scrapes better. The whole of his forearm was raw and red, small rocks and bits of glass shone in the low light. At least two or three layers of skin had been scraped off at the mildest parts of the injury. A slow trickle of blood was running down his fingers from a deeper cut on his wrist, but Otabek didn't care. It didn't even hurt that much, which was probably not a good sign.

"I am." Otabek took his arm back and picked up Yurio's chin with his left hand, making the younger boy look at him. His soldier eyes had melted again, leaving in their wake the shell-shocked version. "Let's find Yuuri."

And that was when they heard it.


	22. Do Over

Yuuri ran.

Right into a pair of strong arms.

His feet stilled, his lungs thanked him for stopping, his chest heaved and ached from the exertion.

The warm body held him close and gave him a chance to catch his breath before breaking the silence.

"You're safe with me, Yuuri."

 _"No."_ Yuuri's eyes widened as the voice chuckled into his ear, pulling him impossibly closer, crushing what little breath he'd held out of his lungs. His feet seemed to grow roots that held him fast to the sidewalk, and his blood must have turned to lead, rending him motionless. His spine turned to ice and a cage match broke out in his stomach. _"No, no, NO!"_

 _"Wake up! Please wake up!"_ he begged his mind, but it wasn't a dream this time. This was real. He'd actually been stupid enough to run into the man again. _"Viktor…"_ tears began to prick behind his eyes.

"Well, since you so rudely ran into me I think it's only fair that I get to have some fun, don't you?" the voice cooed, disgusting smile spreading further with every word, revealing a dripping tongue. The man was actually salivating at the thought of making Yuuri relive his hell. Revolting. "Besides, there's no way this is a chance encounter, is there? Four in the morning, wandering the streets… were you looking for me?"

 _"Viktor, help…"_ oh god. What would Viktor think? Once was one thing… but to have this happen twice. If Viktor hadn't given up on him yet, this would surely do it.

Yuuri found himself cooperating again, despite the voice in his head telling him to fight. There was only one this time, and there wasn't a knife to his throat, so why the hell wasn't he fighting?!

 _"Come on, you can do it."_ He shook as the man dragged him away from the sidewalk by his hair, wandering deep into the park that surrounded the rink. _"Just punch him, or kick, or struggle! Do something goddammit! Squirm, scream, bite, I don't care! DO SOMETHING YOU PATHETIC PIECE OF SHIT! THEY WON'T PUT UP WITH YOU IF YOU TAKE IT AGAIN!"_

"I think here's good." The man smirked, grabbing Yuuri by the front of the shirt before throwing him to the ground with a painful thud. He was about to try his best to help himself when suddenly a foot stomped down on his sternum, holding him in place and cutting off his air with the uncomfortable pressure. "I don't think I need to say this considering who I'm talking to, but cooperate or I'll slit your little boyfriend's throat."

 _"I can't… Viktor I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"_ Yuuri gave into the stinging behind his eyes, letting the tears flow down his cheeks. The hot wash of shame came hard and fast as the man straddled Yuuri's hips, grabbing his chin to force eye contact. He couldn't let Viktor get hurt because of him. He believed every word the man said, and would so much rather walk through hell and back for the second time than see Viktor die. But a tiny voice in the back of his head fought its way forward, screaming shrilly into Yuuri's ears, pushing him to do something he never would have imagined doing. _"Do something, dammit! Don't let him do this to you again! He won't kill Viktor, it's all talk! Don't let him get away with it without doing something for yourself! You can't submit twice! Be less pathetic!_ VIKTOR!"

Both Yuuri and the man that now held their shirts in his thick, foul hands, flinched. Had that actually happened? Yes, yes it had. Yuuri had yelled. Yuuri had yelled! He'd called out for help, and he was going to do it again!

"VIKTOR! HELP! VI-" Once the man on top of him snapped out of his disbelief a section of Yuuri's shirt was suddenly shoved into his mouth, making him gag.

"What the fuck?!" the man landed a solid punch, snapping Yuuri's head to the side, making him taste blood. "You little shit, you'll be sorry!" The man began wrestling with the waistband of Yuuri's sweatpants with one hand, clearly flustered, while he held Yuuri's wrists together above his head with the other, and tried to keep himself positioned so Yuuri couldn't move. That was when the gravity of the situation hit him. It was happening again. And he couldn't struggle. He felt as immobile as he'd been when he was actually tied down with four sets of hands on him at all times. He froze, numb, slamming his walls up even harder than before. He slammed his eyes closed to, refusing to look the bastard in the eye. He tried to concentrate on breathing as he felt his heartrate double, nearing panic. He could deal with this. He could. He'd done it once before, and this time he'd tried. He'd tried to call attention to himself. He'd rebelled against his attacker. He at least had that tiny sliver of comfort at the forefront of his mind as he felt his boxers being yanked roughly down to his knees.

Suddenly, Yuuri felt the weight around his hips leave, and the grip around his wrists release. He immediately pulled the shirt out of his mouth and scrambled to get his pants to sit on his hips. Whatever had just happened, he didn't care. The man was off of him, that was all that mattered. He was getting his modesty back.

He opened his eyes wearily, searching for his attacker. He found him, a pile of shadow that seemed to be wrestling with something. Another shadow came into view, sprinting past Yuuri, pulling the other shadows apart and tacking one deep into the dirt.

Yuuri scuttled away, as fast as he could, until he felt the skin of his bare back connect with rough tree bark. He then instinctively pulled up his knees, giving into his panic, rocking back and forth, shaking, hyperventilating.


	23. Eyes

"I'm fine, Yura." Otabek got to his knees.

"You're not."

"I am." Otabek picked up Yurio's chin with his left hand, making the younger boy look at him. His soldier eyes had melted again, leaving in their wake the shell-shocked version. "Let's find Yuuri."

And that was when they heard it.

"VIKTOR!"

The two froze, probably looking ridiculous in their half squatting, half standing state, but they didn't care.

"Was that…?" Otabek whispered, thinking he almost recognized the voice. However, if it belonged to the person he was thinking of, he'd never heard them in such distress before.

"It couldn't-" Yurio shook his head, eyes wide before he was interrupted by another nearby cry.

"VIKTOR! HELP! VI-" the cry was cut short and Yurio was off, flying like a bullet fired from a gun.

"Yura!" Otabek called after the blond as he disappeared into the woods, still shaking off his shock. But Yurio didn't look back to Otabek, who was struggling to get off the sidewalk with his bloody arm and jostled hips. He kept sprinting in the direction of the voice, refusing to stop until he found to source.

"You'll be sorry!" Yurio heard the voice of a man who was clearly utterly pissed. He pushed harder, running faster than he thought he could ever manage. Then he saw them, Yuuri on his back, arms pinned above his head by a thick, meaty fist, shirt nowhere to be seen, pants and boxers around his knees, some kind of fabric in his mouth, eyes screwed shut with tears pouring down his temples. The sick son of a whore that straddled him was easily twice Yuuri's size, scowling but somehow smiling sadistically as he wrestled with his own belt.

Yurio felt rage take over and he flew, launching himself at the bastard's waist. Yurio's shoulder dug painfully into the man's ribcage and sent them both tumbling off of and away from Yuuri.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" the monster screamed as Yurio attempted to claw at his eyes. If he managed to take away the fucker's sight he would have the upper hand, and size wouldn't matter as much. Unfortunately for Yurio, his opponent was much more adept in hand to hand combat than he was, and saw the attack coming attack from a mile away. He grabbed Yurio's wrist and managed to flip him over with ease. Yurio grunted in surprise as the man straddled his hips and wrapped his sausage fingers around the boy's throat in a crushing grip.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" He screamed as Yurio uselessly dug his nails into the unmoving flesh of his attacker's wrists, trying desperately to move the fingers aside and relive the pressure. "I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL ALL OF YOU!"

Yurio couldn't even gasp for breath as the seething mass of flesh above him tightened his grip more. His arms went slack, vision darkening at an alarming rate. An icy fist took hold of his heart, but he wasn't concerned about himself, he was frantically searching for Yuuri in his limited vision.

 _"Where the hell are you, Katsudon?"_ All Yurio cared about was the safety of his friend. _"Did you get away? Please tell me you got away!"_

"YURA!" Yurio's eyes were bugging out and rolling back, and the blood was rushing to loudly in his ears for him to hear Otabek's cry of distress. Otabek's beloved was pinned beneath a tower of muscle, blue tinge to his face, limp and clearly on the verge of passing out.

Otabek didn't think; he acted in a blind rage. This man had gone after Viktor's Yuuri, and now his Yuri? No! He wouldn't get away with it.

Otabek grabbed the bastard by the hair, yanking him up and off of Yurio. Before he could figure out what had happened, Otabek sent the large figure into a tree trunk, making sure his head connected with a satisfying crack. He didn't stop there, while the man was still dazed, Otabek tackled him to the ground, landing punch after punch until his knuckles were as bloody as the beaten-in face below him. He panted as he stared down at the disfigured hunk of flesh, exhausted from the ordeal, making sure the son of a bitch wasn't moving.

"Yura!" Otabek whirled around, flying to the side of the writhing blond. Yurio was still struggling for breath, coughing and spluttering, calling out weakly for Yuuri.

"Yuu… Yuuri…" Yurio reached out a shaking hand to his huddled friend, the world dipping and swaying, even as he lay on the flat ground.

"Yura!" Otabek cried, cradling the younger boy gently in his arms. "It's okay, you're safe. Yuuri's safe." Otabek knew Yurio cared for Yuuri far more than he cared for himself at that moment, but Otabek found it impossible to tear his eyes away from the deep purple bruise that was already forming around Yurio's pale neck. Otabek could feel the shallow, sporadic expansion and deflation of Yurio's ribcage, which scared him more than anything ever had. He wasn't being strangled anymore, why couldn't he breath properly? Why wasn't he hyperventilating to get the airflow back to normal? Why? Why?! WHY?!

"Beka…" The voice was small and hoarse, not like Yurio at all.

"Yura." Otabek whispered back.

"Call… Phichit." Yurio held out the paper Phichit had given him with trembling fingers.

"Right, yes, I need to call Phichit." Otabek talked himself through it, keeping the panic and tears lodged in his throat. "You need to stay awake, okay? Keep your eyes open."

"Tired…" Yurio complained.

"Yura! No! Eyes on me, or on Yuuri, pick one. I don't care which, just keep them open." Otabek demanded as he dialed Phichit's number and held the phone to his ear, his own fingers trembling almost as hard as Yurio's.

"Did you find him?!" Phichit's voice came through the phone before it could even ring once.

"We're in the park by the rink, call an ambulance!" Otabek couldn't help but yell, finally losing his stoicism over the Russian kitten he had grown to adore so much. "Yura! Eyes open!"

"What happened?!" Phichit demanded after he told Viktor their location. "Viktor! Slow down!"

"Just come and call that ambulance!" Otabek hung up and dropped his phone somewhere in the grass, not realising he'd let his tears slip out just as Yurio had let his eyes slip shut. "Yura! Please, Yura!" Otabek held him closer, pressing his ear into the chest that seemed so frail. The pulse was thready, but it was there. "Come on, Yura… My soldier. Show me your eyes. Let me see your soldier eyes."

"Beka…" Yurio whispered again, not able to manage anything more. His eyes lazily fluttered open, void of any strength or emotion they may have held moments before. He still felt like there were hands around his throat, the even pressure was uncomfortable, suffocating. He found himself unable to take in a full breath. His lungs screamed for a deep inhale, but all Yurio could do was gasp and hiccup in short, uneven spurts. "Yuuri…"

"Yuuri's okay." Otabek promised, brushing the hair out of Yurio's face. "You will be too, but you need to keep your eyes open, okay? Please Yura, for me, keep your eyes open."


	24. Nightmare

"He did this once in Detroit." Phichit and Viktor had regained some breath and were jogging about the city again, calling out for Yuuri every once in a while, keeping their eyes peeled for any sign of life among the darkness. "I found him in an alley somewhere, out of breath and still panicking."

"Do you know why he does it?" Viktor scanned back and forth across the streets and lawns they passed. "Does _he_ know?" A regular panic attack was one thing, but jumping out of bed and sprinting away into the freezing Russian night was something different entirely.

"He compared it to a nightmare." Phichit recalled the conversation he'd had with Yuuri when they were waiting for Celestino to pick them up. "You know, the one where you're running from something but you don't know what you're running from, how far behind you it is, or how to get away? And it seems like you're not even moving? That one."

"Yeah, I know the one." Viktor cringed, imagining what that would be like. When he had that particular nightmare his dream form always managed to trip on something and he would jerk awake before he hit the ground, out of breath and drenched in cold sweat. To live it, have it be real, unable to wake up from it… he had to find Yuuri. Soon.

Suddenly, the pounding of the pair's feet was accompanied by the first few notes of _Shall we Skate?_ prompting Phichit to tear the phone from his pocket.

"Did you find him?!" He nearly screamed into the phone, completely forgetting that there could be a possibility that someone else was calling him. Someone who wouldn't know what the hell he was talking about. He was relieved when Otabek answered him back.

"We're in the park by the rink, call and ambulance!" Phichit's relief however was snuffed out when he heard Otabek's tone and the words that came with it. "Yura! Eyes open!"

"Park by the rink!" Phichit called to Viktor before he began making demands. "What happened? Viktor! Slow down!" Phichit picked up his pace, needing to keep up with the Russian man considering he had no idea where the hell they were or where they were going.

"Just come and call that ambulance!" the line went dead.

"Praṇām!" Phichit cursed in his native tongue as he pushed his legs to catch up with Viktor. "Viktor! What's the park called? Otabek says they need an ambulance!" "What? WHY?!" Viktor somehow gained more speed, desperation taking hold of his body, forcing him beyond his natural limitations. "I don't know just tell me the name of the park!"

"Izmaylovskiy!"

"Thank you!" Phichit ground his teeth, grateful for at least one bit of helpful information, annoyed with everything else that had been said. Why couldn't people just answer his damn questions?!

Viktor ran, not bothering to look before crossing streets, tuning out Phichit's conversation with the emergency operator, ignoring the burn in his lungs and the shaking in his legs. He knew where Yuuri was. That was all that mattered.

Viktor ran faster than he'd ever run before, blocking out the sounds of angry car horns, ignoring Phichit's pleading for him to slow down and be careful. When he reached the park, he followed the sound of Otabek begging someone to open their eyes. When he came upon the scene, he stopped dead. Otabek was cradling Yurio in his arms, sobbing into his chest, his knuckles were bloody and so was his right arm. Yurio was limp, eyes closed, and had a dark purple ring of bruises around his neck. There was a pile of a man sprawled not far from Otabek and Yurio, unmoving, face bashed in beyond recognition. Yuuri was shirtless, knees hugged tightly to his chest, shaking hard and rocking back and forth.

"Yuuri!" Viktor skidded and dropped to his knees in front of his fiancé.

Phichit arrived on the scene, eyes widening in horror as he took in the carnage. "Yurio!" he decided, seeing as Viktor could handle Yuuri's panic better than anyone else. "What happened?" He demanded as he fought tears. Yurio looked half dead, Phichit needed answers.

"I don't know, the bastard was strangling him when I got here." Otabek sobbed.

"Is he…" Phichit choked on his words, unable to bring himself to finish the sentence.

"His heart is beating." The reply came in the form of a snarl, Otabek refusing to even acknowledge that there was another possibility.

"Okay, I called the ambulance." Phichit wiped away tears defiantly, he refused to break down right now. He was the only person who would be able to communicate when the paramedics got there. Everyone else was occupied. "I'll go back out to the sidewalk so I can flag them down."

"Good." Otabek nodded, not really paying attention. "Good. Hurry!"

Phichit didn't think he had any run left in him, but he was off again, sprinting out to where he hoped the ambulance would pass by. He'd also requested police, having reported the potential of an assault when he'd called earlier. He was glad that part had turned out to be true, otherwise he could have been charged with misuse of the emergency call system. However, he was also scared out of his mind, considering how limp and lifeless Yurio had looked.

As soon as his sock feet connected with the pavement, Phichit began to hear the sirens, way off in the distance. When the flashing lights came into view, Phichit waved his arms over his head, getting the attention of the ambulance. A police car was in hot pursuit.

"This way!" Phichit called as the paramedics and police jumped out of their respective vehicles. Five pairs of feet pounded behind Phichit as they ran through the park. He unnecessarily pointed Yurio out as the one who needed medical attention and told the police that the other unconscious man was the one who had attacked both Yuuri and Yurio. Yurio was loaded onto a stretcher, wheeled away without question by two of the paramedics, Otabek chasing after them, not letting Yurio out of his sight for a second.

"How long was he throttled for?" One of the paramedics was throwing questions to Otabek as they approached the ambulance and began loading Yurio in.

"I don't know, as soon as I got there I separated them, though." Otabek was fighting tears as his Yura was hooked up to a heart monitor.

"Was he conscious when you got there?"

"Barely."

"Pulse is weak, he's fading, where the hell is Zolin?!" The paramedic who was poking and prodding at Yurio demanded.

"Here!" the third medic suddenly appeared, zipping straight past the back door of the ambulance and into the driver's seat.

"What they hell are you standing around for? Get in!" Otabek was suddenly grabbed by the front of his shirt and hauled into the back of the vehicle, the door slamming shut behind him. He quickly sat down on the bench next to Yurio as the ambulance lurched, speeding and screaming towards the nearest hospital.

"What's his name?"

"Yuri." Otabek could feel the adrenaline wearing off and the pain in his arm begin to set in. "Yuri Plisetsky."

"And what's your name?"

"Otabek." He nodded, still blinking back tears.

"My name is Ilia, this is Nikita." Ilia explained as he looked into Yurio's mouth, searching for tracheal obstructions. "We're going to take care of Yuri, okay? He's going to be fine."

Otabek just nodded, knowing that if he spoke again his steady stream of tears would become an all-out waterfall. He just held Yuuri's cold, shaking hand in his equally cold hand, which was shaking just as hard.

Ilia and Nikita threw Russian words back and forth as they checked Yurio over. Otabek was both grateful and frustrated that he didn't understand the foreign language; he was glad he wasn't hearing anything that would make him worry more, but he also kind of wished he knew what was going on.

However, as soon as Otabek's wish was granted, he would have so much preferred to be left in the dark.

"Shit!" Nikita spat as the heartrate monitor began beeping hysterically. "Come on, Yuri! Fight it, stay with us!"

"Zolin!" Ilia banged on the window that separated the driver from the passengers. "We're losing him! Step on it!"

"Yura!" Otabek squeezed his hand tighter, tears coming full force as the ambulance lurched again, gaining speed.

"Shit!" Nikita pressed his fingers into Yurio's neck, searching for a pulse as the beeping leveled out to one steady tone. Otabek knew what that meant. "No pulse!"

"YURA!"


	25. Sorry

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Yuri, I'm sorry. Yuri…" Yuuri rocked himself back and forth, his mind focused on the pile of shadow that had rescued him. The pile of shadow that had been getting strangled seconds prior. The pile of shadow that was now collapsed and limp. The shadow that was Yurio. Yurio had put his life on the line for Yuuri. Yurio had been strangled because he'd tried to save Yuuri.

Yurio was an idiot.

And he'd been an idiot because of Yuuri.

More than anything, Yuuri wanted to run to Yurio's side, make sure he was okay, assure him that everything would be alright, but he couldn't. Much like when he'd seen Michael fall at the rink, he just sat there, unable to move, unable to think, overwhelmed with guilt and fear.

"Yuri. I'm sorry…"

Yuuri stared as another shadow scooped Yurio up, shaking. Was that Otabek? The shadow that was hopefully Otabek seemed to be yelling, but Yuuri couldn't hear anything aside from his own hyperventilated breath and the blood rushing in his ears.

It could have been seconds or hours that passed as Yuuri just stared at the pile of shadow not far from him, getting sick of his own voice as he rocked back and forth, freezing in the four A.M. air.

Suddenly, a familiar face came in between Yuuri and Yurio, blocking Yuuri's view.

"Yuuri!" That was Viktor's voice, wasn't it? Viktor. Viktor made things better.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Yuri, I'm sorry…" Yuuri tried to speak, but all that would come out was his loop of guilt ridden apologies. His breaths were gasping and ragged, body tense.

"Yuuri, it's me, it's Viktor." The Russian man shed his sweatshirt, draping it over Yuuri's back, which left him in nothing but his t-shirt. Yuuri wanted to pull that sweatshirt over his head, feeling the warmth of Viktor embracing him, but he still couldn't move.

"I'm sorry…" Yuuri continued on like a broken record.

"Yuuri, listen to me." Viktor felt the tears streaming down his face, joy and misery hitting him like two trains from opposite directions at the exact same time. Yuuri was talking! But he was apologizing… why was he apologizing? "You have nothing to be sorry for, just breathe."

"Yuri, I'm sorry…" Viktor wrapped Yuuri in his arms, not caring if it was without warning. Every time up until then, hugs had calmed him down. Viktor just hoped that the situation wouldn't stray from the pattern.

"Shh, it's okay, you're safe." Viktor assured as Yuuri continued apologizing in his ear.

But clearly, it was not okay.

Otabek was sobbing, holding a limp Yurio in his bloody arms. Yuuri's shirt was discarded a few feet away and looked to be stained with blood. There was a massive shadow that used to be a man but now had its face beaten in near Yurio and Otabek, unconscious and blood-covered. Before he'd taken to resting his chin on top of Yuuri's head, Viktor had noticed a bruise beginning to form on Yuuri's cheek, which brought with it a bubble of rage, but he forced that back, focusing on making Yuuri calm down.

Eventually, after countless reassurances were whispered and many unnecessary apologies were made, Yuuri was breathing normally and latched on to Viktor like a sloth to a tree branch.

Phichit came pounding into the clearing, bringing with him three paramedics and two police officers. Two of the paramedics focused on loading Yurio onto a stretcher, practically having to pull Otabek off of him first, the wheeling him out of sight. The third questioned Viktor about Yuuri.

"Is he injured?"

"No, coming down from a panic attack." Viktor could see the previously unconscious bastard beginning to come around out of the corner of his eye, and the police working quickly to cuff and arrest him.

"You're sure?"

"Positive, just get him out of here." Viktor practically growled as the man was dragged to his feet and away from the couple.

"Consider him gone." The paramedic nodded before taking off.

"Hey, it's okay, he's gone." Viktor soothed Yuuri, who had had his face buried in Viktor's shirt. "Are you okay?"

"Yurio-" Yuuri was cut off by Viktor.

"Don't worry about him, he's with people who can help him. I'm worried about you, help me to not worry."

"I'm okay." Yuuri nodded, tears still in his eyes.

"Good. Let's get this on you." Viktor took the sweatshirt that had been draped over Yuuri's shoulder and held it out for him to put on properly. "It's too cold to not have a shirt on."

Yuuri nodded and pulled the sweatshirt over his head; it did little to combat the persistent shivering.

"Come here." Viktor offered his arms and Yuuri melted into them, feeling somewhat safer. They shared heat, warming each other, fending off the cold embrace of the dark.

"Well…" They both looked over just in time to see Phichit drop to his knees. He sniffed, letting the night catch up to him, and was surprised to see tears begin to splatter onto his legs. "Shit…"


	26. Suffocate

"YURA! NO!" As quickly as Otabek jumped to his feet, he was pushed back down again.

"Let us do our job if you want him to live." Ilia removed his hands from Otabek's shoulders, but held his tear-filled gaze for just a moment before whirling back around and working quickly with Nikita.

Nikita had already jumped on top of the stretcher, kneeling directly over Yurio, marking the center of his chest. Ilia made quick work of finding some sort of plastic mask and pressing it over Yurio's mouth and nose. He counted the number of compressions as Nikita ponded the heels of his hands into Yurio's sternum, giving two breaths through the mask for every thirty compressions.

Otabek just stared at Yurio, horrified. He heard the ribs cracking under the pressure of the compressions, terrified of the lack of response to the horrible sound. He looked so fragile, as if a single, gentle touch would shatter him like a martini glass under a sledgehammer. Otabek so badly wanted to look away, but couldn't shift his gaze from the lifeless form than was his Yura. The boy he loved. The only person he'd ever really cared about. His soldier.

The breath was stolen from Otabek's lungs as he watched Yuri, such a beautiful force of nature, flopping around on the stretcher like a dead fish under the hands of the man who was trying to save his life.

He was dead. Really and truly dead. He'd died with Otabek holding his hand. This wasn't supposed to happen. How could this have happened? This wasn't supposed to happen!

Otabek's lungs couldn't figure out how to take in air. Was this how Yurio had felt? Had he been battling this feeling on the ground in the park? No wonder all he'd wanted to do was close his eyes and pass out.

Otabek didn't even turn away when Yurio threw up all over himself, Ilia, the stretcher, and the floor of the ambulance. Nikita simply turned him on his side while Ilia ripped the mask away, grabbing a new one while Yurio continued to the contents of his stomach. Once finished, Yurio was rolled back over, Nikita clearing out his mouth with gloved fingers before beginning compressions again.

"Come on, Yura." Otabek whispered to himself, wishing more than anything that he could trade places with his soulmate on the stretcher. If Yurio were to die… well… If he were to stay dead… NO! He couldn't think like that. Positive thoughts, positive outcome. That's something people say, right? Think positive if you want something good to happen? Right. Something like that.

"Hold." Nikita instructed after five rounds of compressions and breaths, leaning down to listen for breathing and feel for a pulse. "Nothing."

Otabek felt as if he could sense the Earth turning, everything was tipping and swaying as he felt the burning in his lungs. In his own head, he screamed for himself to breathe, for Yurio to breathe, for the pain that had been dropped on everyone to be lifted. He just wanted everything to stop. "Come on, Yura!"

Five more rounds and Ilia checked for signs of life. "Still nothing!"

"Come on, Yuri!" Nikita huffed, picking up compressions again. "Fight for it!"

Just before the next five rounds of CPR were finished, Yurio gasped and his body jerked.

"Yura?" Otabek was hesitant allow himself to hope too much after the eternity of pain he'd just experienced, but the smiled of relief that graced Ilia's face when he leaned down to listen gave Otabek the confirmation he needed.

"He's stabilizing." Ilia sighed, the obnoxious beeping of the heart monitor becoming music to everybody's ears. "Breath is extremely labored. Tracheal intubation required."

"Go for it." Nikita sighed, climbing off of the stretcher, panting and sweating. "I'm sorry you had to watch that." He plopped down next to Otabek, who had finally remembered how to breathe, running a shaky hand through his hair. "He should be stable enough to get to the hospital once the breathing tube is in place."

Otabek just stared at Yurio as Ilia forcefully shoved a plastic tube down his throat, then attached a balloon-esque contraption to the end. He periodically squeezed and released, in time with his own breathing, keeping Yurio's chest rising and falling at a steady rate.

"Let me take a look at your arm now that he's taken care of." Nikita offered, having seen the bloody mess as soon as they'd arrived.

"It's fine." Otabek muttered, holding his arm close to his body. The adrenaline had worn down, and now that Yurio was stable, he could feel the pain setting in. He found it difficult to even attempt to twitch his fingers, he didn't want to move his entire extremity.

"It's really not." Nikita shook his head. "Your hand is broken and the cut on your wrist and a few on your knuckles need stitches. The rest of your arm needs to be cleaned soon or you'll get one hell of an infection."

Otabek contemplated his words for a moment before submitting with a sigh. "Fine." He slowly, painfully, brought his arm away from his blood-soaked shirt displaying the carnage to Nikita.

"You beat that guy's face in, huh?" Nikita chuckled at the fractures he'd seen so many times from unconscious gang fight victims. Wailing on one another for far too long with more strength than they knew they possessed until their bones gave out.

"He deserved it." Otabek practically snarled as Nikita carefully picked stones and glass out of his arm.

"I don't doubt it."


	27. Family

Yuuri and Viktor hadn't let go of each other since they'd been reunited. Even as they chased after Phichit towards the hospital, Yuuri was holding firmly onto Viktor's arm, keeping pace with the others as best he could.

"Yuuri Plisetsky." Phichit said to the triage nurse as soon as they reached the desk.

"Are you family?" The nurse asked, skeptically. Plisetsky was undoubtedly a Russian last name, and the boy making demands across her desk was most definitely not Russian.

"We are." Viktor called from a few strides away. "He's a close family friend." Viktor gestured to Phichit.

"Well okay then." The nurse rolled her eyes and began typing, clearly not caring enough to check the validity of Viktor's lie. Well, it wasn't exactly a lie. They were family, all of them, only held back from being officially labelled as such by the smallest technicality: not sharing blood. "He's in room 416, ICU."

"Thank you!" Phichit called as the trio rushed down the hall toward the elevators.

They piled in the doorway of Yurio's room, stopping short at the sight of their young friend. In the dark it had been difficult to see, but the bruise that wrapped around Yurio's throat was a shade of purple so deep that it wasn't far off from black. The rest of Yurio was pale as the white sheets he was under; even for a Russian boy, he was alarmingly colourless. A mechanical ventilator huffed and groaned in the corner, connected to the tube that ran between Yurio and the machine. The tube was down his throat and strapped around his head, making his chest rise and fall in time with the machine. Laying there, so damaged that his lungs couldn't even perform on their own, eyes closed, Yurio looked like an innocent child. No signs of a glare were present, the creases in his forehead had settled, he looked somewhat relaxed despite all of the machinery he was hooked up to.

"Viktor, Yuuri, and Phichit I assume?" A lab coat clad doctor looked up from her clipboard to see the three men squeezed in the doorframe.

"Yes." Viktor nodded, slightly confused, bringing Yuuri with him into the room, Phichit not far behind.

"Otabek told me to expect you, I'm Dr. Kozar." She reached out to shake hands with each man in turn.

"Where _is_ Otabek?" Phichit piped up, finally noticing the lack of broken stoicism in the room.

"It took some persuading but he's in the fracture clinic." Dr. Kozar smirked slightly, remembering how adamant the boy had been about staying with his friend.

"I'll go see him." Phichit nodded to the other two, rushing out the door before anyone could react.

"Well… down to business then. Yuri here has taken some fairly severe damage to the neck, as I'm sure you could tell. Unfortunately, he has suffered a collapsed trachea, hence the ventilator. He also flat lined on the way here due to suffocation from the collapse, but clearly, our medics were able to get him back. For now, I've placed him in a medically induced coma to combat stress and help him recover. I'm hopeful that within a day or two his throat will be strong enough that he can breathe on his own. If that's not the case he will have to have a stent put in, which is basically like an internal cast that will keep the trachea open while it regains structure. The good news is that his larynx was not fractured, so there is little chance of permanent vocal damage or loss. However…" Dr. Kozar trailed off, seeing the looks of horror gradually deepen on the faces of the men before her. "Since we don't know how long he was deprived of oxygen for… there's no way of telling if he will suffer from permanent brain damage. With that he could develop a speech impediment, memory loss, mood swings, loss of coordination or motor skills, chronic pains or the inability to feel pain, loss of impulse control, depression and or anxiety. There's quite a high risk of him developing at least a couple of these considering he suffocated in the ambulance, but there's no telling for sure until he wakes up, so try not to dwell on it."

"Thank you." Viktor managed, feeling the dread and guilt spread through him.

"I'll leave you two with him. A nurse or myself will be by every half hour to check his vitals."

"Thank you." Viktor repeated.

"He…" Yuuri choked out once the door had closed. "He… died. Viktor, he died." The tears came thick and fast, immediately drenching Yuuri's cheeks.

"Don't think about that." Viktor couldn't seem to follow his own advice, but he had to try. For Yuuri. "He's okay. She said he would be okay."

"Didn't you hear all of those terrible aftereffects?" Yuuri somehow managed to blubber through his tears. "His career, his life could be ruined. Because of me."

"It's not your fault Yuuri." Viktor guided them over to a pair of plastic chairs that sat next to the bed. "Don't ever think it was your fault."

"But if I hadn't been running around in the dark, if I hadn't run into him, if I hadn't worried everyone, if I hadn't been so weak, if I hadn't been so goddamn stubborn that night he wouldn't-"

"Yuuri!" Viktor snapped a bit more forcefully than he intended to. "I never thought I would say this after almost a month of silence but stop talking." Viktor gazed at his fiancé through his tears. "None of this is your fault. Not one single part of it. It is that man's fault along with his sick friends. They're to blame. They hurt you, and now he's hurt Yuri. You didn't strangle him, so you're not to blame. End of story."

"But he-"

"End of story!" the statement was final. "I'm sorry, but I can't bear to see you blame yourself for this. You did not kill him, understand?"

Yuuri just nodded, knowing that if he spoke he would probably scream.

"I love you." Viktor whispered, pulling Yuuri close. "More than you could ever know."


	28. Broken

"Am I able to see Otabek Altin?" Phichit leaned on the reception desk, slightly out of breath from jogging around the hospital, looking for the fracture clinic, still exhausted from his midnight run.

"Altin?" The nurse behind the desk typed the name into his computer. "He should be released as soon as his cast is put on, you can wait here until then." He smiled but there was a hint of 'don't mess with me I've been up all night' in his eyes.

"Do you have any idea how long he'll be?" Phichit pressed, not wanting to piss anyone off, just concerned for Otabek.

"Not long, twenty minutes maybe?" The nurse sighed, still smiling but the look of annoyance building.

"Thank you very much." Phichit smiled and nodded, turning on his heel before he could make the man behind the desk angry.

Phichit sighed and plopped down in a plastic chair among the few other, exhausted looking people in the waiting room. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through Instagram in an attempt to calm his jittery nerves. The night had not been enjoyable, and to end it in a hospital to top it off… Phichit just wanted to fall into a bed and sleep for a week. He mindlessly scrolled thorugh his feed, not really paying attention as he double-tapped every picture he passed.

"Excuse me…" a small voice shook him out of his thoughts, Phichit looked up to see a young girl, maybe ten or eleven, standing a few feet away with her arm wrapped in blue plaster from the wrist to the elbow. "You're Phichit Chulanont, aren't you?" Her face immediately went red and she let her hair fall forward to cover her eyes.

"Yeah." Phichit smiled, finding the encounter to be quite adorable. "What's your name?"

"Anastasiya." She peered over her shoulder at a woman who was standing over by the wall, and looked like she was probably Anastasiya's mother. Her mother nodded in an encouraging way, seeing Phichit's genuine smile when her daughter had approached.

"Are you a skater, too Anastasiya?" She was clearly star struck, so Phichit tried to make the conversation as easy for her as possible. He'd seen so many fans react the same way in the past, and had figured out how to ease them into asking for a selfie or an autograph by now.

"Yes." She nodded, peeking up at Phichit through her bangs. "I was actually practicing when I fell and broke my arm." She giggled slightly, thinking of how silly the whole thing has been. A double toe loop. She'd fallen out of a double toe loop. She'd had that jump in her roster for almost a year now

"You were practicing this early in the morning?" Phichit almost gasped. It wasn't even six and this girl had already injured herself.

"Yeah, I like practicing before school so I have time to do homework after." She explained, slowly emerging from behind her hair to show her face.

"What time did you start at?"

"Five."

"Wow, I don't even go to practice that early!" Phichit smiled broader at Anastasiya's giggle. "I complain that seven thirty is too early for me."

"Well I want to compete at the Grand Prix Final someday, but I want to get good grades in school too, so I practice before school every day, then after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays. On weekends I usually get at least eight hours of training in."

"That's so cool!" Phichit was genuinely impressed at the level of dedication Anastasiya had at such a young age. "I love that you want to devote that much of your time to it."

"Well you have to work hard to go far."

"You're right about that." Phichit nodded.

"Umm… So…" Phichit let Anastasiya form her question. "Would it be possible to… I mean if you don't mind of course… can I please get a picture with you?"

"Of course!" Phichit smiled, thrilled that she'd gotten the words out. "Is your mom going to take one?"

"Yeah." Anastasiya practically skipped over to her mom, quiet cries of "he said yes!" audible from where Phichit sat.

"Thank you, you're one of her idols." Anastasiya's mother smiled as Phichit posed with her, throwing a peace sign and a huge smile.

"No problem." Phichit smiled again.

"Well, thanks for talking to me." Anastasiya turned red at her mother's comment, and looked like she wanted to run away,

"Wait!" Phichit scrambled for his phone. "I need one for my Instagram!"

"You… You're going to…?"

"Well of course, I always put pictures of me with my friends on my Instagram."

Phichit wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he heard Anastasiya mumble something about this being the best day of her life as he opened his camera and the two posed again.

"Wait." He said again before he took the picture, a thought having popped into his head. "hold on a sec."

Phichit ran up to the desk, asking for his desired item, and returned to Anastasiya and her mother, who looked slightly confused.

"Would you do me the honour of allowing me to be the first person to sign your cast?" He asked, kneeling down to Anastasiya's height and displaying the sharpie he'd obtained as if it were an enchanted blade.

Anastasiya squealed with joy, practically jumping up and down as her head bobbed, at a loss for words.

Phichit grinned again as Anastasiya held out her arm. Phichit carefully wrote out his name, adding a heart and his best attempt at a skate to dress it up a bit.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Anastasiya squeaked, looking overjoyed at the autograph she'd be wearing for the next six weeks.

"You're very welcome, now how about that picture?"

They posed, Anastasiya smiling even wider than in the one her mother took, displaying her cast proudly. As soon as the click went off, Phichit heard a familiar voice call out to him.

"Phichit?" He turned his head to see a very confused-looking Otabek walking over.

"Oh my gosh!" Anastasiya squealed again at the sight of the other skater.

"Otabek!" Phichit kept his smile on for Anastasiya's sake. "This is Anastasiya, she's a skater too!"

"Is that so?" Otabek kept his stoic expression as always but a friendly tone accompanied it. "Well in that case I think I need to sign your cast, right?"

"I… if you wouldn't mind, I would love that." Anastasiya worked to regain her composer while her mother chuckled and Otabek smirked.

"Of course I wouldn't, under one condition."

"What condition?"

"You have to sign mine too."

"Do you really mean that?" Anastasiya's eyes widened beyond what should have been possible at the prospect of having her name on a Grand Prix Finalist's cast.

"It's only fair, don't you think?"

"Sure!" she squealed again.

They signed, Otabek carefully drawing out a smiley face next to his name, and Anastasiya encasing her name in a heart.

"Did you want a picture too?" Otabek asked when he was finished.

"Yes, please, if you're okay with it."

"Of course."

Anastasiya's mom took the photo, both subjects displaying their casts and the new signatures on them.

"Thank you both so much, I think you just made her year." Anastasiya's mother nodded as he daughter looked about ready to pass out from all the excitement.

"No problem." Otabek nodded back.

"Anytime!" Phichit added in. "Anastasiya!" he called as they began to walk away. "I'll be watching for you at the junior finals!"

She just nodded, blushing too hard and shaking too much to reply.

"I needed that." Phichit sighed, his smile lingering for just a moment before the weight of the night came rolling back to the forefront of his mind.

"Yeah…" Otabek agreed. "Have you seen Yura yet?"

"Yeah, I went there before I came here, Yuuri and Viktor are still with him." Phichit nodded, losing any trace of a smile as he and Otabek headed back through the hospital. "He's asleep for now."

"Yuuri's okay?"

"Physically, yes. Mentally…"

"I think we're all pretty shaken." Otabek grumbled, forcing the memory of Yurio flatlining out of his mind.

"How are you feeling?" Phichit took in the stitched, bruised knuckles and blue plaster around his forearm; it was the same cast Anastasiya was given, but for very different reasons.

"I'm fine." Otabek shook his head.

"No you're not." Phichit countered. He'd seen the look on Otabek's face before he'd said anything about Anastasiya. Something was very, very wrong.

"No." Otabek sighed as he agreed. "I'm not. But I'm also not ready to talk about it."

"Okay." Phichit nodded. "Let me know when you are."

"I will."

"Good. Turn right here."


	29. Fight

"Yuuri…" Viktor broke the twenty minute silence, still holding his fiancé as tightly as humanly possible while they stared at Yurio.

"Yes?" Yuuri's lip twitched every time he spoke. It felt so good to have finally broken down that wall and set his voice free.

"That guy… he didn't-"

"No." Yuuri couldn't let Viktor finish the sentence, feeling his face flush scarlet and an urge to push away from Viktor. He didn't give into it though. He refused. Viktor made him feel better, he wouldn't push him away this time. He wouldn't push any of them away. Especially not Yurio. Not after what had happened. "No. I decided I wouldn't let it happen again. At least… not without a fight."

"What do you mean by that?" Viktor cocked and eyebrow.

"You didn't hear it?" Yuuri's heart sank a bit. "I… I called your name."

Viktor felt like someone was physically tearing his heart out, ripping it in half, and feeding it to him while it was still beating. "You… You called out… to me?"

"Well who else was I supposed to yell for?" Yuuri's voice shook at the memory of Viktor's name tearing through his throat for the first time. After that, Yuuri thought he would have been able to say he'd fought; but after seeing Yurio… all he did was yell. Anyone could yell. "It really wasn't that impressive."

"Yuuri, don't ever say that." Viktor tipped his fiancé's chin so they were looking into each other's bloodshot, watery eyes. "You overcame a huge hurdle. You should be proud."

"But it's what I should have done the first time." Yuuri broke eye contact, preferring not to look at Viktor while he spoke. "If I had, Yurio wouldn't have had to rescue me."

"Hey." Viktor snapped. "Stop blaming yourself."

"I can't."

"You will." Viktor squeezed Yuuri impossibly tighter, showering the top of his head with gentle kisses. "Especially when he wakes up. You don't want him to kick you with his knife shoes, do you?"

Yuuri smirked at the phrase. Yakov had once told Yuuri that Yurio had started skating because skates were essentially shoes with knives attached to them. What a Yurio thing to say. "No I would not."

"It's so good to hear your voice." Viktor mumbled into Yuuri's hair, changing the subject effectively.

"It's good to talk." Yuuri smiled, relishing the feel of Viktor nuzzling into his hair. "I was starting to hate looking at that notebook."

"So was I." Viktor chuckled, remembering his patience beginning to wear thin some days as Yuuri wrote, scribbled and rewrote for hours before he finally showed Viktor what he wanted to say. "I would have done it forever though, if it meant being with you."

"Stop it." Yuuri felt his cheeks flush pink, glad Viktor couldn't see it. He still got bashful when Viktor said sweet things like that, no matter how many times a day that was.

"No." Viktor smiled, feeling the heat of Yuuri's cheeks thorugh his thin t-shirt. "I mean it, Yuuri. I'm ready for whatever comes after this; are you?"

Yuuri sighed and thought before answering, really mulling the question over. "I don't know." He admitted, remembering all of the sleepless nights, panic filled days, and getting down on himself about affecting everyone else.

"Well, we can figure it out as we go."

"That's what we've been doing since the beginning isn't it?"

"I suppose you're right. It's worked thus far, hasn't it?"

"Yeah…" Yuuri shifted his hands so the light bounced off of his ring, smiling at the golden band and all of the love, hardships, perseverance, and victories it represented. "It has."

"So we'll keep doing it, as long as we live. We'll figure things out as we go. We'll make mistakes, we'll accidentally succeed. We may even succeed on purpose sometimes. The important thing is that we do it together."

"I love you, Viktor Nikiforov."

Viktor felt the words collide with his heart and make it swell to three times its size. It was the first time Yuuri had said it since he'd regained his voice. Viktor actually felt a tear rolling down his cheek. He missed those words. So much.

"I love you too, Yuuri Katsuki."


	30. Useless

"How's your hand?" Phichit tried his best to strike up conversation, but Otabek really wasn't having it. He just wanted to get back to Yurio and make sure he was never alone again. He died because Otabek was too slow. He suffocated under another man's grip for too long because Otabek had fallen. Otabek wanted to be there when he woke up. Not too late. Not helpless. There.

"It's fine." Otabek shrugged, following a step behind Phichit as they made their way thorugh the corridors of the hallways, dodging breakfast carts and hurried nurses. "Painkillers really work wonders."

"Glad to hear it." At least Otabek wasn't in physical pain. "This is his room." Phichit gestured to the upcoming door on the left side of the hall, expecting Otabek to bolt past him and kick the door down. However, just the opposite happened when they reached the viewing window of Yurio's room. Viktor and Yuuri had their back to the door and were snuggled together, looking like they might be asleep. Yurio was still laying limply in bed, a machine breathing for him, looking fragile as expected, so Phichit didn't understand it when Otabek stopped and stared.

"You okay?" Phichit pressed after a few moments.

Otabek just stared on, hoping his messy bangs were hiding the tears. They weren't.

"Hey, talk to me." Phichit practically begged. It was bad enough that he was still in the dark about Yuuri, he didn't need Otabek withholding information too.

"He… in the ambulance on the way here… Yura… He… He died…"

"What…?" The words hit him like a truck, and Phichit's heart dropped all the way to New Zealand. "What do you mean he…?"

"He flat lined." Otabek let his head fall forward and connect with the glass before turning around and sliding to the ground, looking more like a rag doll than a human. Especially a human named Otabek Altin. "I was holding his hand when his heart stopped beating. They brought him back but… I lost him. I lost him while I was holding onto him. There was nothing I could do. I was just so... useless."

"Oh my god…" Phichit dropped to the floor and without thinking pulled Otabek into a tight embrace. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose someone like that. To rescue them only to have them ripped away from you minutes later. He couldn't even articulate any sort of attempt at comfort. "Otabek I…"

Otabek just slumped into Phichit, letting the man who had become a friend hold him. He cried, not caring about his stoic image. He cried for himself, who had witnessed the boy he loved die right in front of him, and electrocuted back to life. He cried for Yurio, who had so bravely jumped in to defend Yuuri, and ended up wounded because of it. He cried for Yuuri, who had been through some trauma unbeknownst to Otabek and Phichit, and was still struggling because of it. He cried for Viktor, who was seeing the man he loved so dearly struggling so much in his own head. He cried for Phichit, who seemed to be the only person around who was capable of not breaking down every ten minutes, who shouldn't have had that weight on his shoulders. He just… cried. And felt so much better after.

"Sorry…" Otabek squirmed his way out of Phichit's protective grip once his tears had run dry, feeling slightly embarrassed about the whole ordeal.

"Don't be." Phichit gave a Otabek a drowsy, lopsided smile that he knew was genuine. "You okay?"

"Better now." Otabek sheepishly smiled back, his lip twitching upwards with no more than a hin smirk, but Phichit saw it, and his eyes lit up more.

"Ready to go in?"

"I think so." Otabek gladly took Phichit's offered hand and hauled himself off the tiled floor, glancing through the window to Yurio's room again, mentally preparing himself for what was to come.

"Hey, none of us will judge you for getting upset." Phichit placed a firm hand on Otabek's shoulder. "We'll be momentarily shocked, but none of us will ever judge you."

Otabek let out a single chuckle, which was actually more of a sharp exhale, but Phichit counted it as a win. "Thank you, Phichit."

"It's what I do." Phichit's smile broadened as Otabek lead the way into Yurio's room.


	31. Proud

Yuuri woke up in Viktor's arms, snuggled into his warm, strong chest, feeling safe and content for the first time in a long time. He glanced around, trying to figure out where he was in his half-asleep state. Yurio was laying in front of him in a bed, a tube in his mouth and a dark bruise around his throat. Right. They were in a hospital, weren't they? Yurio had gotten strangled to death and revived because of Yuuri's panic attack. He felt the guilt settle, but forced his eyes to move on from Yurio.

Across the bed there was a figure with their head slumped forward, resting on the rail at the edge of the mattress. Yuuri assumed it to be Otabek, considering Phichit was curled up in another chair a few feet away from the unknown head of dark hair.

Yuuri just existed for a moment, knowing everything was okay and that everyone was safe for now. He let himself be held in Viktor's embrace that was somehow firm and protective, even while the man slept.

"When did you wake up?" Viktor yawned after an indiscernible amount of time that Yuuri had spent staring at Yurio.

"I don't know." Yuuri admitted, sitting up to relieve some of the pressure from his sore neck. While it had been nice, snuggling with Viktor in plastic hospital chairs wasn't exactly the most comfortable.

"How are you feeling?" Viktor's eyebrows pulled together when he saw the purple bruise that covered most of Yuuri's cheek. He hadn't realized how bad it was the night before.

"Okay I guess." Yuuri shrugged, stretching his muscles and hearing his joints crackle satisfyingly. "It's fine." He assured when he caught Viktor staring at his cheek. "Be concerned about him."

"I can't let myself do that." Viktor sighed. If he thought about the potential effects of Yurio's strangulation, suffocation, and death, he would send himself into a panic. "Shit!" Viktor suddenly snapped.

"What?" it was Yuuri's turn to draw his eyebrows together.

"Yakov doesn't know." Viktor pulled out his cell phone and jumped to his feet, Yuuri following him into the hall.

Viktor held the phone away from his face when Yakov answered, letting his booming voice fill the hallway instead of his ear. "Actually, I _don't_ know what time it is." Viktor looked to the clock on the wall, learning that it was, in fact, only seven forty five. "And yes it's very important. Meet me at the hospital." Viktor held his phone out again, and Yuuri even cringed away from the impossibly loud yelling. "I'll explain when you get here, okay? See you soon." Viktor hung up before Yakov could do any more damage to nearby ears, and looked to Yuuri. "Well, since we didn't sleep much, let's go find some coffee."

"Agreed." Yuuri nodded, taking Viktor's outstretched hand. They wandered through the halls until they came upon a cafeteria, which was bustling with patients, visitors, nurses, and residents who had either been up all night or awoken too early. Yuuri clung to Viktor, immediately feeling the crowd surrounding them and pressing in, eyes locked the top of his head considering he was facing the floor.

"Hey, it's okay." Viktor put his arm around Yuuri, attempting to comfort him. "I'm here, you're safe."

"I know, but-"

"Nobody is staring, I promise." Viktor lifted Yuuri's chin so they could gaze into each other's eyes. "They're too busy getting coffee. The only eyes on you are mine."

"Okay." Yuuri nodded and allowed himself to be lead through the crowded cafeteria by Viktor, trusting every step he took.

They swerved through the crowded cafeteria, Yuuri keeping his eyes down, Viktor glaring at anyone who got too close until they stepped away. Once the mission for coffee was completed, Viktor quickly lead Yuuri out of the room, into the infinitely emptier hallway.

"I'm so proud of you, Yuuri." Viktor mumbled into the mop of black hair as he planted a soft kiss atop his fiancé's head.

"What for?" Yuuri, genuinely curious, looked up from his coffee cup and into Viktor's beaming face. Was he… Was he really proud? It looked like it.

"Lots of things." Viktor pulled his arm out of Yuuri's tight grasp and wrapped it around his shoulders instead, pulling him close, feeling their lungs expand together. "You fought, you're speaking, you just went in a loud, crowded room and managed to stay calm." Viktor's smile widened to an impossibly cheerful grin, which made Yuuri's lip twitch as well.

"None of that is really worth celebrating…" Yuuri blushed and case his gaze down again, only to have his chin lifted by a warm hand.

"They may not seem like much, but each small victory is a step towards recovery." Viktor's smile became solemn with that word. Recovery… as if there was something about Yuuri that needed fixing. Nothing about him needed improvement. He was perfect. Absolutely and inarguably perfect.

"I guess, but-"

"Let me put it this way." Viktor would no longer stand to hear Yuuri minimize his progress. "I wish I had a pork cutlet bowl for you. That's how proud I am."

"Viktor." Yuuri's face flushed again, but he didn't look away this time.

"Look, more progress." Viktor chuckled. "You didn't break eye contact."

"You're embarrassing me." Yuuri's blush deepened, but still he continued to inspect the pride and joy in Viktor's beautiful blue eyes.

"I know." Viktor placed a gentle kiss on Yuuri's forehead, feeling a fresh rush of joy when he didn't flinch or pull away.

"How can we be smiling right now?" Yuuri suddenly felt as though he'd been hit by a bus, guilt slamming into him and sending a deep ache throughout his entire body.

"What do you mean?" Viktor tried to regain eye contact with Yuuri, but instead found the top of his head.

"Yurio… he's…"

"He's focusing on getting better." Viktor felt the guilt that had previously been pushed aside retake his stomach, but he refused to show weakness in front of Yuuri. "Being miserable won't help him."

"But it feels wrong to be so happy after what he did."

"Never feel bad about being happy. Ever. Do you understand?" Viktor could hardly believe what he was hearing. "You deserve to be happy, Yuuri. You deserve the world. I wish I could give you everything, but there's only so much I can do."

"You do more than enough, Viktor." Yuuri's face was suddenly buried in Viktor's neck, arms wrapped tightly around him, holding back tears. "You love me as much as I love you. That's all I need."

"Yuuri…" Viktor shook off his shock and wrapped his arms around the shaking figure that was attached to him. "No words are capable of describing the feelings I have for you. And there never will be any that can."

"I know how you feel."

They stayed like that, wrapped in each other's arms in the middle of the waiting room, coffee forgotten about and going cold.

"VITYA!" Yakov's booming voice broke up the soothing embrace. "WHAT HAPPENED?"

"Yakov…" Viktor untangled himself from Yuuri, dread winding in his stomach as he faced the man who looked worried yet somehow furious at the same time. "I…"

"Yurio was hurt." Yuuri chimed in when Viktor couldn't seem to form a coherent thought.

"Yuuri?" Yakov shook his head in disbelief at the sound of the familiar voice. "Since when can…?"

"Long story, focus on Yurio for now." Yuuri quickly swept the explanation under the rug, seeing as Yakov didn't know the full story. "They've placed him in a medically induced coma-"

"WHAT?!" The roar made Yuuri flinch, causing Viktor to pull him close, protecting him from the incredibly unthreatening coach.

"Yakov, listen." Viktor tried again with his explanation, practically seething at the fact that his coach had caused Yuuri to huddle in on himself. "Makkachin ran off when I let him out last night so we all went after him. Yuuri ran headlong into a guy who got pissed off and punched him," Viktor gestured to Yuuri's bruised cheek, "so Yurio-not knowing the guy was drunk and angry-got the bright idea to jump in and help. One thing led to another and-"

"No." Yuuri suddenly interrupted Viktor's flawless lie. "That's not what happened."

"Yuuri…?" Viktor looked down to see defiant tears pooling in Yuuri's eyes.

"I… I'm ready."

"Ready for what?" Yakov kept his voice at the lower end of a shout to keep from scaring Yuuri again, looking between the pair as they locked gazes for a few moments.

"Are you sure?" Viktor reached for Yuuri's hands, intertwining their fingers firmly.

"Yes." Yuuri nodded, a single tear rolling down his bruised cheek. "I am."


	32. Not

_"Shit!" Nikita spat as the heartrate monitor began beeping hysterically. "Come on, Yuri! Fight it, stay with us!"_

 _"Zolin!" Ilia banged on the window that separated the driver from the passengers. "We're losing him! Step on it!"_

 _"Yura!" Otabek squeezed his hand tighter, tears coming full force as the ambulance lurched again, gaining speed._

 _"Shit!" Nikita pressed his fingers into Yurio's neck, searching for a pulse as the beeping leveled out to one steady tone. Otabek knew what that meant. "No pulse!"_

 _"YURA!"_

Otabek flinched awake, drenched in cold sweat, shaking as he recalled the memory of the previous night all to clearly. He remained with his forehead resting on the rail of the bed for a moment, part of him trying to collect his composure, most of him dreading the view he would be met with. Once his breathing levelled and his trembling had mostly died down, Otabek worked up the courage to lift his head from the rail and take in the image of Yurio.

"Yura…" He whispered, reaching for his love's cold fingers, wrapping them in his, which weren't much warmer. "I'm so sorry…"

"Don't apologize." Otabek nearly jumped out of his skin when Phichit's voice sounded from his left. "Sorry." He chuckled quietly at Otabek's reaction. Phichit found it so strange to see the man before him actually creating facial expressions. Even when he skated, he'd been nothing but stoic.

"How long have you been up?" Otabek felt his cheeks flush red at the thought of Phichit watching him while he'd been dreaming.

"A while." Phichit shrugged. "Yuuri and Viktor didn't exactly leave quietly, I'm surprised you slept through it."

"So, you…?"

"You were having a nightmare, weren't you?"

Otabek just looked away, rage burning in his core when his eyes settled on Yurio's disgustingly purple neck.

"I couldn't decide whether to wake you or not." Phichit admitted, following Otabek's gaze to the comatose Yurio, fear rolling around in his stomach. "Apparently if you sleep through them you don't remember in the morning, but if you wake up in the middle of one, you will. You woke yourself up, huh?"

"I guess." Otabek couldn't see how anyone would know whether you would remember a nightmare after sleeping through it, after all, how could you know you'd had one if you didn't remember? Either way, he always woke up in the middle of his nightmares. Accept this one. This nightmare was real.

"You were dreaming about him, weren't you?"

"How could I not?" Otabek felt the tears pressing against the backs of his eyes, threatening to break him even more.

"You have nothing to feel guilty about." Phichit shook his head; he was sick of everyone blaming themselves for everything that happened to everyone else. Viktor hadn't sent Yuuri home from the rink, so it wasn't his fault that he hadn't been there. Yurio hadn't attacked Yuuri, so it wasn't his fault that he got hurt. Otabek hadn't strangled Yurio, so it wasn't his fault that he died in the ambulance. Phichit seemed to be the only one capable of having those thoughts, yet for some reason still found guilt rolling around in his stomach, too.

"How can you say that?"

"Because they weren't your hands around his throat. You didn't crush his windpipe. You didn't kill him, Otabek. I don't care if you think you could have prevented it, because you couldn't have. Your retaliation was fueled by your anger after seeing Yurio hurt. If you'd gotten there at the same time, he probably would have taken both of you out easily. If he'd gotten you first, even with the adrenaline Yurio wouldn't have stood a chance; that guy was huge, I don't even know how you managed to take him out. So please, stop feeling guilty."

"You feel it too." Otabek broke his gaze and returned it to Phichit's eyes. "I can tell. You're not how you used to be, Phichit. You're beating yourself up over it, too; difference is, the rest of us say it out loud. You keep it in and tell the rest of us to let it go."

"Yeah…" Phichit sighed in defeat, forcing a smirk onto his face. "I'm trying to help, it's what I do, making sure other people are happy… it's always been that way."

"That's not your responsibility. You shouldn't have to carry that yourself."

"I don't mind." The smile became more genuine at Otabek's words. "I like seeing people happy. Helping them helps me. Once everyone else feels better, I'll be better."

"Well if you say so." Otabek just shook his head, beginning to understand how truly different he and Phichit were. "Just, make sure you think about yourself once in a while too, okay?"

"I'll keep that in mind."

"YURA!" both the door slamming open and Yakov's booming voice scared Otabek and Phichit out of their chairs, making them jump about six feet in the air.

"Calm down, Yakov." Viktor attempted, Yuuri lingering a few steps behind, head down. "He'll be okay. They're keeping him in a coma for a couple days so he can heal."

"What happened to his neck?" Yakov turned, left eye twitching, staring Viktor down with pure rage in his eyes.

"He got strangled." Viktor felt his fingers beginning to tremble. He was used to dealing with a screaming Yakov, but to have him seething like this… Viktor wanted to throw Yuuri over his shoulder and run. "But he'll be okay. Otabek got there in time and saved him."

"Explain. Now." Yakov's teeth didn't even part as he growled, voice resembling that of an angry Rottweiler.

"Well…" Viktor glanced behind him to Yuuri, who wasn't even completely in the room yet. He looked like he wanted to flee. "It's not my story to tell…"

Yuuri took in a shaking breath, forcing his eyes upward to meet those of Yakov, Viktor, Phichit, and Otabek, who were all staring at him expectantly.

"Well… I… Uhm..."

"Yuuri…" he felt his chin being gently lifted by Viktor's fingers, watery gaze meeting the shiny pools that somehow resembled irises. "If you're not ready…"

"I am." Yuuri nodded in defiance, with confidence, tapping into his pent-up anger. Looking into his fiancé's beautiful eyes made the world go away. The pure love that those round, clear, pools of blue held, the love that was sent on to him, they made Yuuri feel capable of anything. Even finally telling his whole story. As long as Viktor was there to help him along, he would be okay. "I'm ready."


	33. Confession

"I'm ready."

"If you're sure." Viktor nodded with a smile, wanting only for Yuuri to be comfortable with the amount of information he was about to divulge.

Yuuri just nodded, finally coming into the room and facing the remaining six eyes that were fixed to him.

"You see…" Yuuri began, voice faltering after just two words. He cleared his throat, determined. Phichit's eyes caught his for a moment, and Yuuri was reminded of everything they'd shared over the years. Phichit had helped Yuuri through some pretty low points in his life, he deserved to know what had happened, after all he'd done for Yuuri.

His gaze then found Yakov's rage filled expression; the one he thought he'd be dreading. But the rage wasn't directed at Yuuri, it was sent out to the man who had killed Yurio. That thought startled Yuuri. 'The man who had killed Yurio.' _Killed. Yurio_. Those words just didn't go together. Anyways, Yakov needed to know who the fucker who'd hurt his skater was, and why he'd done it.

Then there was Otabek. Poor, sweet, Otabek who'd only ever shown emotion when Yurio was around. Who'd witnessed his love in pain, watching helplessly as his own body caused him to suffocate. Who'd been holding Yurio's hand as his heart stopped beating. He'd been through too much to walk through this blind. He needed to know why Yurio had jumped in so recklessly.

Finally, Yuuri's eyes returned to Viktor's. Viktor who knew what had happened. Viktor who loved him despite knowing everything. Viktor who only wanted to hold him close and keep the demons away. Viktor who had helped Yuuri so much in the past year and a half. Viktor. Yuuri's fiancé. A five-time Grand Prix champion. Viktor.

"I left practice early because I was tired." Yuuri's own voice surprised him when his mouth began moving with little forethought. His words were usually premeditated and very calculated, so to hear himself speaking with no prior plan was foreign, but he figured it might be better just to let it happen. "Viktor wanted to come, but I told him to stay. When I got home, there were four men in our house. They… raped me… All of them." Yuuri felt as though it was his first time saying that. Rape. It probably was. When else would he have said it? It wasn't exactly a common topic of conversation in everyday life.

"Yuuri…" Phichit's eyes widened slightly, but there was a hint of something in his eyes that Yuuri couldn't quite figure out. "I…"

"I know." Yuuri shook his head, regaining his comfortable eye contact with the floor. "Last night, I had a panic attack in my sleep and dreamed that I was running from something, and when I woke up I was still panicking, so I started to run. The man who attacked Yurio was one of them. He was about to… do it again when Yurio showed up and tackled him off of me. I was useless, but Otabek came in time and beat the bastard within an inch of his life. I'm sorry." Yuuri suddenly found the floor rushing up to meet his knees, his hands deciding to join in with the solid connection. "I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Viktor was on the ground in a second, crying almost as hard as Yuuri.

"Yuuri." Phichit skidded to the ground, wrapping his best friend in a tight embrace. "Oh god, Yuuri!"

"Yuuri, don't apologize." Yakov knelt down to the pile of skaters on the hospital floor, rage cast to he edges of his expression by the guilt that pushed its way through. "I'm so sorry this happened."

Yuuri just nodded, snuggling deeper into Viktor, wrapping an arm around Phichit, unable to do anything other than cry. And everyone let him. Because everyone else was crying too.

It wasn't until a nurse came into the room to check on Yurio's vitals that the pile of people untangled from each other and managed to get themselves off the floor, having cried themselves out, leaving tear stains on shirts and wrinkles where fists had gathered cloth.

"He seems to be doing well." The nurse jotted down notes she'd previously been mumbling to herself. Notes that completely flew over everyone else's heads. "If his condition betters or even remains stable, we'll try taking him off the respirator tonight."

"That's good to know." Yakov nodded. "May I ask you a few questions?"

"Sure." The nurse smiled again. "Would you like to step into the hall?"

"Of course." Yakov followed as the perky woman lead him out of earshot.

"Yuuri." Otabek broke the five minute silence they'd been keeping up, causing Yuuri to flinch and peer up at him through messy bangs.

"Yes…?" Yuuri felt a touch of pride swelling in his chest when his voice didn't crack or shake. It was only one word, but one word coming out strong and clear was a start. A start he could built on.

"We need to stop." Otabek's eyes were softer than usual, bloodshot and drooping slightly. He was exhausted. Worried. "I'm blaming myself for this, and so are you. We can't."

"Otabek-"

"I know you're going to tell me it's not my fault, and I know that. Well… I kind of know that. But you're being a hypocrite. You blame yourself just as much as me. Yura won't have it. He'll beat us up if he finds out."

"You're right." Yuuri joined Otabek in smirking at the thought of Yurio's choice words if he found out how guilty the two of them felt.

"So… let's try." Otabek suggested, knowing there was no way he could get past it alone. And no way he could let Yurio help him with this.

"Together." Yuuri agreed.

The two just smiled at each other, holding eye contact for a moment before Phichit's muffled snicker brought attention to his corner of the room.

"Sorry, sorry!" Phichit cut his giggles short when he notices the eyes on him. "I just… I think that's the sappiest thing I've ever heard either of you say."

"I think so too." Viktor chimed in, pulling Yuuri closer to him. "And you've said some pretty-"

"We're not talking about that!" Yuuri flushed scarlet, throwing a hand over Viktor's mouth to silence him. Otabek just kept his head down and everyone laughed, a smile he couldn't contain pulling at the corners of his lips.


	34. Breathe

"How are you feeling?" Viktor asked as he came into the bedroom, towel wrapped around his hips, silver hair plastered to his face and still dripping from his shower.

"Exhausted." Yuuri looked up from his phone to see Viktor tugging on a sweatshirt. They had left the hospital early in the afternoon on Yakov's orders, seeing as none of them could keep their eyes open any longer. Otabek had refused to move, not that anyone had tried to persuade him otherwise, so Phichit, Yuuri, and Viktor had all ventured back to the house so they could shower and get some proper sleep.

"I can't imagine why." Viktor smiled as he plopped down on the edge of the bed next to Yuuri, who immediately leaned into him. It felt so good to have Yuuri snuggled up next to him, Viktor almost wanted to cry.

"What do you think is going to happen now?" Yuuri asked after a few beats of silence.

"I don't know." Viktor sighed, pulling Yuuri closer in a protective manner as he recalled the day's events.

The police had come to the hospital to collect statements about the assaults, during which they had connected the dots from Yuuri's previous run-in with the man whose name was apparently Grigor Sokolov. Yuuri and Viktor had decided at since they now had all four identities, they would press charges against the group of perverts who had made their lives hell. Little information was able to be exchanged during the statement collection, but they had set up some time to talk to their lawyer about the case.

"Viktor if we don't win-"

"Shh…" Viktor moved one of his hands to stroke through Yuuri's hair. "Even if we don't peg all of them for the first attack, Sokolov will get it for attempted murder, no doubt."

"But all of them have previous offences, so if they walk… what if they hurt someone else?"

"Don't think about it." Viktor laid back, bringing Yuuri with him, letting him use his shoulder as a pillow. Yuuri snuggled closer, slowly regaining the feeling of comfort he used to experience when he slept next to Viktor. "We're going to do everything we can to get them thrown in jail, and if our best isn't enough, we'll do more."

"Okay." Yuuri nodded, fighting with his eyelids to stay awake longer. He just wanted to exist in that moment, cuddling close to Viktor, feeling safe and warm in his arms, forever. He wanted to forget everything; the men who'd hurt him, the pain he'd caused everyone else, the fact that his friend was in the hospital… everything.

"Sleep." Viktor whispered into Yuuri's hair, losing the battle against the calming pull of darkness himself. "Just sleep."

Yuuri couldn't even keep himself aware long enough to respond to Viktor's words, and soon found his mind retreating into the comforting inky blackness of sleep.

But of course, the darkness had to part at some point, and Yuuri's mind sent him back to the clearing, where he had a full, unobstructed view of Sokolov's hands around Yurio's throat.

 _"_ _I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL ALL OF YOU!" he screamed into Yurio's face as he squeezed tighter._

"Move!" _Yuuri screamed in his head, straining against unseen binds that kept him from running at Sokolov and getting him off of Yurio._ "Goddammit MOVE! He rescued you so why can't you rescue him?!"

 _Time seemed to slow down as Yuuri just watched, horrified as Yurio turned purple and stopped struggling. His eyes stayed open though, bugging out as he searched through the night. When they found what they were looking for, they regained their usual anger and power._

 _"_ _What the hell are you sitting around like that for?" Yurio asked the question clearly despite having a too-tight collar of human hands around his throat. "Help me here! I can only do so much for you, piggy. Time to step up!"_

 _"_ _But… But I can't!" Yuuri managed to call back, still feeling as though he were tied down so tightly that no part of him could move an inch._

 _"_ _The hell you mean you can't?!" Yurio shot back as a sickening crackle sounded in the night. "You saw me get this guy off of you, right? He's three times my size! Don't think about it, just do it! Loser!"_

 _It was that memory of the bathroom, that reminder of a time when Yurio had seen him as no more than a snivelling crybaby, that forced Yuuri to his feet. He was not the man who cried over getting sixth place in the grand prix finals. He was not the man who let everyone down on national television. He was not the man who let a fifteen year old intimidate him._

 _He wasn't the man who'd let himself be violated by a group of perverts and not fought back. He wasn't the man who hadn't been able to speak for a month because someone had told him to be quiet. He wasn't the man who was so helpless that his friend had died because of him._

 _No._

 _He wasn't that man._

 _He refused to be that man._

 _"_ _YURI!" the scream tore through his throat as he launched across the clearing, landing on Sokolov's back._

 _"_ _WHAT THE FUCK?!" Sokolov roared and released Yurio as Yuuri's fingernails found their target and plunged deep into the bastard's eyes, making him roar louder before whimpering like a kicked puppy._

 _"_ _I'm not what you think I am!" with new found strength, Yuuri threw Sokolov to the ground, relishing the sight of him cupping tears of blood as they dripped out of his mangled sockets. "I'm not weak! I'm not weak! I'M NOT WEAK!"_

"I'm not weak!" Yuuri lurched forward with his cry, confused at first. Where was Yurio? Sokolov? Why wasn't he in the forest? Where was he?

"Yuuri?" Viktor sat up with him, having been woken up by the shout. "Yuuri it's okay, you were dreaming." He placed a tentative hand on his fiancé's shoulder when he saw the signs, hoping to calm the panic attack before it went full-force.

"Yurio." Yuuri muttered to himself, shaking. "Yurio…"

"He's okay, you're okay, we're all okay." Viktor assured, moving Yuuri into a gentle hug when he reacted positively to the hand. "Just breathe."


	35. Storm

**Sorry for the short hiatus, life has this terrible habit of getting in the way of things people enjoy.**

 **Just so everyone knows, updates will likely be sporadic from here on out, but I will never abandon this. I'm sad to say that we're nearing the end of our journey with this story, and I'm getting every last bit of pain disguised as fluff out there on the table.**

 **I hope everyone enjoys the chapter.**

 **~Ace**

* * *

Viktor woke before Yuuri the next morning, eyes opening to the gentle early morning light spilling in through the curtains. For a moment, everything was peaceful as Viktor just breathed, staring up at the ceiling.

Yuuri was laying on his side, facing away from Viktor, back pressed into his side firmly. Yuuri's head was resting on Viktor's outstretched arm, and their fingers were gently interlaced as they had been when they had fallen asleep the night before.

"Good morning." Viktor whispered, not loud enough to wake Yuuri, as he rolled over and wrapped his free arm around Yuuri's waist and buried a few kisses in his hair. After the initial nightmare, the night had been uneventful, tranquil even. They'd gotten nearly twelve hours of uninterrupted, much needed sleep.

Viktor just held Yuuri close, timing his own breaths to those of his fiancé's, looking back on the events of the past months, and relishing the serenity of the silent morning.

Viktor had no idea how long he stayed that way, but Yuuri eventually began to stir when the light shifted and sent beams into his face. At first, he tensed, confused at the arms around him.

"It's okay, it's me." Viktor loosened his grip, ready to pull away completely until Yuuri grabbed his free hand and pulled it close to his chest. "You okay?"

"Yes." Yuuri smiled, hardly, but the corners of his lips did turn up. "I'm good."

"Good." Viktor smiled as well, finally feeling some balance returning to their lives. Suddenly, Viktor's stomach decided to demonstrate its best impression of whale song, which made both parties in the bed giggle. "Do you think you can try eating again?" Viktor pressed gently, not wanting to freak Yuuri out too much. He'd already overcome so much, there was no need for him to stress out.

"Maybe." Yuuri shrugged, trying not to remember why he couldn't eat in the first place, or what had happened when he'd tried to in the recent past.

"If you're not ready-"

"I'll try." Yuuri nodded, not feeling particularly hungry, but willing to put forth the effort.

"Okay." Viktor gave Yuuri a gentle squeeze. "What would you like?"

"Why don't we give porridge another try?" Porridge had an almost liquid consistency the way Viktor made it, and it had been the only food Yuuri had come close to choking down since his attack.

"Chocolate peanut butter?" Viktor smirked, knowing it was Yuuri's favourite flavour.

"What else?" Yuuri smirked back, forcing himself to let go of Viktor's hands and sit up.

"Let's go get it started then."

Viktor and Yuuri held hands as they left the bedroom and wandered down to the kitchen, giving each other strength, supporting each other, reminding each other that everything would be okay. Once they got downstairs, Yuuri took a seat at the nearby island while Viktor got to work gathering ingredients. Yuuri would have helped, but he usually got told to just relax when Viktor was cooking. He loved doing things for Yuuri, especially cooking.

Somewhere in his whirlwind of cupboards and fridge doors opening, Viktor found time to place a glass of orange juice on the table for Yuuri. He sipped it while he watched Viktor at work, tossing ingredients into a pot without measuring. The lack of precision always made Yuuri a bit nervous, especially when clouds of cocoa powder erupted from within the pot or stray oats jumped onto the stove, but Viktor's methods produced delicious results every time.

Soon after the smell of chocolate and peanut butter began drifting out of the pot, Yuuri found his stomach growling and Phichit followed his nose to the kitchen.

"Morning." Phichit's smile was far too bright for seven thirty, and Yuuri knew it was all thanks to the porridge. If there was a delicious smell, Phichit had a smile on his face, not matter the time of day. "Smells awesome in here!"

"I do my best." Viktor threw a cheeky wink over his shoulder. "It's almost ready, can you grab some bowls?"

"Sure!" Phichit threw open a cupboard and pulled down two bowls. Before he could close the door, however, Yuuri spoke up.

"We'll need three."

Phichit looked shocked for a moment, but soon realised and replaced his wide eyes with a smile. "Of course, sorry."

"Don't be." Yuuri tried his best to smile back. "How could you have known?"

"I guess you're right." Phichit's smile broadened as it always did when he was with Yuuri. The actual Yuuri. Not the shell of a broken man that he'd spent nearly a month with. Yuuri was coming back little by little, and even those little bits, the hints of smiles, the way he squinted without his glasses, the nervous voice cracks, made Phichit grin from ear to ear. His best friend was becoming himself again.

"Alright, gents." Viktor brought the pot over to the island, plopping some of the porridge into each bowl while Phichit grabbed spoons. "Dig in!" Viktor announced with a flare as he plopped himself next to Yuuri and took a spoonful of his breakfast concoction.

"This is delicious, Viktor!" Phichit tried to exclaim around a mouthful while Viktor chuckled.

They carried on, exchanging lighthearted small talk and enjoying their meal while Yuuri faded into the background, tuning out the conversation, staring at the bowl of porridge that seemed to stare back with daggers in its non-existent eyes. His stomach churned, confused as to whether he was hungry or anxious. His mouth watered, but at the same time his throat constricted. He just kind of poked and stirred the pile of oats, wishing he could just scoop some up and stuff it in his mouth without thinking. Why did such a simple task have to cause him so much grief? Why did something that looked and smelled so delicious have to seem so dangerous? Why did such a normal task seem so impossible? Why?

"Yuuri?" Viktor called for the third time, having noticed the distance in his eyes. He was mindlessly stirring the bowl of porridge, not having eaten any, eyes beginning to wander. "Yuuri." Viktor reached out slowly and gently rested his hand on Yuuri's wrist, making him jump. "I'm sorry." Viktor let go and Yuuri quickly found his eyes, calming down in a relatively short amount of time. "You okay? You were off somewhere else for a bit there."

"Sorry." Yuuri felt his cheeks flush and dropped his gaze back down to the table top.

"Don't apologize." Phichit hoped Yuuri could see his reassuring smile out of the corner of his eye. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"If you're not feeling hungry-"

"I am." Yuuri interrupted Viktor, feeling horrible but also frustrated. If he was going to get better he needed to push himself, just like when he skated. If there was no effort put in, there was no progress. And when he found himself getting complacent, his coach was there to push him. That was what he needed from Viktor. A push. No more coddling. "I need to do this." He aggressively scooped some lukewarm porridge onto his spoon with shaking hands, chest immediately clenching, pulse running high, breaths coming short and quick. "I need to do this." He repeated, whispering this time. Before his mind could get the better of him, Yuuri shoved the spoon into his mouth, quickly slapping a hand over the bottom of his face as the gag rushed up his throat. Horrible memories of what had been forced into his mouth on that awful night flashed through his mind in quick succession, forcing him to fight to keep the porridge in his mouth.

"Yuuri!" Viktor reached out as Yuuri heaved over the table, hand pressed firmly over his lips. Viktor's hand was smacked away as tears pooled in Yuuri's eyes, body and mind fighting for two very different outcomes.

"Yuuri you're going to hurt yourself!" Phichit's eyes were wide with horror as Yuuri shook, free hand clenched in a tight fist.

"I'm fine." Yuuri panted, releasing his lips from the tight grasp of his shaking hand. A tiny smile pulled at the edges of his mouth, pride taking over. He'd done it. He'd managed to eat solid food. To anyone else, that would probably seem like a regular occurrence, but to Yuuri, it was a major hurdle he'd overcome. "I'm fine." He reached for the spoon he'd dropped on the table, only to have Phichit grab it away while Viktor confiscated his bowl of breakfast.

"You're not fine!" Viktor could feel the tears running down his cheeks, though he didn't know when he'd started crying. "Yuuri you can't do that to yourself!"

"Do what? Get better?!" Yuuri could feel the anxiety rising in his chest. Why couldn't Viktor see it from Yuuri's perspective? Why couldn't he see how frustrating it was to be in his shoes? WHY?

"Yuuri, forcing yourself like that won't make you better." Phichit could see that Yuuri was getting worked up, so he tried to keep his voice low and calm. "I had a friend who collapsed her own lung because she would force herself to throw up. You can't heave like that, you'll get hurt."

"You guys don't understand!" Yuuri felt something inside of him snap. Tears poured from his eyes and his whole body was shaking uncontrollably as his breaths came quick and sporadic. His fingernails dug into his palms so deeply that he could feel blood dripping from his clenched fists. He couldn't tell if he was stuck in an episode of sub-psychotic rage, or having a new kind of panic attack. "None of you understand! You don't know what it feels like to be so goddamn pathetic! I'm useless! I can't do anything right! I couldn't help Yurio! I couldn't help myself! I can't even eat properly! FUCK! WE'D ALL BE BETTER OFF IF I WAS DEAD!"

Suddenly, Yuuri felt himself being pulled out of his chair and onto the floor. Strong arms wrapped tightly around him, pulling him close, pressing his ear against a warm chest. The heartbeat that was pounding in that chest seemed to be much faster than what would be considered normal. "Don't ever say that." Viktor's broken voice somehow reached Yuuri through his hysteria. He stopped yelling and listened, needing the terrifying thoughts to get out of his head. "You're not pathetic. You're not useless. You're not weak. And I know we don't understand, and we probably never will, but you don't understand what it's like for us, Yuuri. We've been watching you destroy yourself, and we don't know how to help. You can't keep things like this bottled up. If you're feeling that badly about yourself, please tell me. Or tell Phichit. Tell someone so we can help. Please, Yuuri." Viktor's voice finally gave out and he began sobbing into the top of Yuuri's head.

"Keep talking." Yuuri begged, collecting fistfuls of Viktor's shirt in his bloody fingers, still shaking, tears refusing to stop. "Please keep talking."

"We love you, Yuuri." Phichit dropped quickly to the floor, seeing Viktor struggling to find his voice. "That's why we've stood by you this whole time. If you were any of the things you say you are, we wouldn't be here. Why would we spend time with someone who was useless? You're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. Don't feel like you have to prove yourself. Don't rush to get better faster than you can handle. Nobody will think less of you if you need time to recover."

"I love you, Yuuri Katsuki." Viktor suddenly found himself blurting out. "Please say it back." He didn't know why, but Viktor needed to hear it. He needed to hear Yuuri's feelings. Maybe it would convince him that Yuuri really was just off on a tangent and nothing he'd previously said was true. Or maybe it would just make Viktor feel better. Either way, he needed to hear those three words. "Please."

Yuuri took a deep, shaking breath. He hoped he would be able to get the words out through his gasping breaths and faucet-like tears. He surprised himself when the sentence came out in a fluent string.

"I love you, Viktor Nikiforov."


	36. Stutter

Watching the doctor pull the breathing tube out of Yurio's throat and replace it with a stent was nothing short of horrifying. Otabek had no idea someone's mouth could open far enough to have a camera, a woven metal tube, and a doctor's hands inside of it all at once. He just sat in the corner, eyes never leaving Yurio as the doctor roughly yanked and shoved at her tools, getting the stent in place in no time.

"He should wake up in the next hour or two, but he won't be aware of his surroundings." Dr. Kozar began checking Yurio's vitals as a nurse collected her tools and left without a word. "In about six hours the drugs should have run their course, he'll be more coherent then."

"Thank you." Otabek muttered, still in mild shock from witnessing the procedure.

"Have you slept at all?" Dr. Kozar took in the deep purple bags under Otabek's eyes as she scribbled down her findings on Yurio's chart. She didn't even let him respond, knowing the answer. "I'll order a cot for you. Sleep before he wakes up. It'll be better for him if someone's here and aware when he wakes up."

"Thank you." Otabek reiterated. It was true. He hadn't slept since Phichit, Yuuri and Viktor had left the day before. Yakov had hung around for a few hours before he had to go run his lessons. Mila and Georgi had been by briefly, but they'd shown up less than an hour before visiting time was over, so they'd been promptly kicked out. Otabek had also been asked to leave, and spent the night in the waiting room, too anxious to sleep. Once he'd been allowed back in Yurio's room, he'd begun to feel the sleep pulling at his mind, trying to lure him into the darkness.

Thinking back on it, Otabek probably hadn't slept in twenty four hours. And the three hours he'd gotten before that weren't exactly satisfying.

A few minutes later, an orderly came into the room, wheeling a folded up cot with him. Otabek helped to arrange it in the corner under the window, less than three feet from Yurio's bed. The room seemed so quiet without the constant groaning and puffing supplied by the ventilator that had previously been in the corner.

Otabek got himself settled, surprised at how comfortable the lumpy mattress and thin pillow seemed to be in his state of exhaustion. Even the stiff, semi-unraveling quilt seemed warm and comforting as he lay back, eyes on Yurio for all of thirty seconds before he was out cold.

To his delight, Otabek's sleep was dreamless and peaceful, ending with his eyes opening on their own schedule. He took in the room, still bright and quiet and as sterile smelling as ever. Yurio still looked to be asleep, so Otabek searched around for a clock. The one above the door read one o'clock, meaning he'd slept for about five and a half hours.

Otabek groaned and sat up, stretching and rubbing at his heavy eyes. He sat for a moment, relishing in the peace that settled upon the room. No one was crying. No one was yelling. No one was slamming doors. No one was arguing. No one was doing much of anything. Yurio was sleeping and Otabek was watching, glad to see his chest steadily rising and falling on its own accord.

"Yura…" Otabek breathed. He wasn't exactly sure what he wanted to say. Sorry? No… he'd promised Yuuri he'd stop blaming himself. Get better? That just sounded stupid. After a few quiet moments of contemplation, it came to him. Something he'd wanted to say since that day in Barcelona when he'd rescued Yurio from the herd of crazy fangirls. "I love you." It was barely more than a whisper.

"Beka." Otabek nearly jumped out of his skin when Yurio's horse, quiet voice permeated the silence.

"Yura! I-" Otabek felt his cheeks going red as he rushed to Yurio's bedside.

"Don't." Yurio cracked a lazy smile, eyes half closed. "That's the fir-f-firs-f…" Yurio's brows drew together as he struggled to get his tongue to cooperate with his brain.

"Don't push yourself." Otabek gently grabbed Yurio's hand, rubbing gentle circles into the back of his it.

"B-be-k-k-ka." Otabek could see Yurio beginning to panic, confused and afraid of his own voice.

"Shh…" He tried to soothe, but internally, he was freaking out almost as much as Yurio seemed to be. "It'll get better if you calm down."

"I've n-nev-v-ver st-t-t-t-stuttered. W-w-why…?" Tears pooled in Yurio's eyes as he continued to battle with his mouth. He looked so vulnerable it made Otabek's heart shatter. Yurio had never looked this genuinely terrified.

"Yura, calm down." Otabek felt the sting behind his own eyes and pressed the call button, hoping a nurse or the doctor would show up before he lost his composer. They would be able to explain the situation instead of just standing there, being useless. "Take a breath, the more upset you get the worse it will be."

"Bu-b-b-but I-"

"Hello!" a nurse who was much too cheery for the situation came into the room just then, interrupting Yurio's already broken speech. "Oh, you're up, good!" Her voice was high pitched and happy, which was not what Yurio and Otabek needed. "I'll go get Dr. Kozar."

"Don't try to talk." Otabek brushed Yurio's bangs out of his eyes. "You'll only get more upset."

"B-b-bek-ka." Yurio gave in and let the tears roll down his cheeks, eyes closed.

"It's okay." Otabek got on his knees to be closer to Yurio, still rubbing circles into the back of his hand as he whispered assurances to the broken boy.

"I heard you were awake." Dr. Kozar was scribbling on her clipboard as she came in. "Are you in pain?" She immediately asked when she looked up to see Yurio's tears.

"N-n-n-n-no." Yurio's tears came faster when he couldn't even get a single syllabled word out.

"I see." Dr. Kozar looked disappointed as she walked up to Yurio's side. "Your brain was deprived of oxygen for an extended period of time, Yuri. It's very common to develop speech impediments after trauma like this."

"Will it be permanent?" Otabek asked on Yurio's behalf. He knew it would take Yurio a lot longer to say it, and that he would want to know the answer.

"Most likely, no." Dr. Kozar jotted down some notes as she replied. "I'll recommend you to a speech therapist upon your release for a proper evaluation. For now, try to relax. Getting frustrated will only make it worse."

"Thank you."

"Otabek, may I speak with you in the hall for a moment?" Dr. Kozar asked with a gentle smile.

Otabek looked to Yurio, who was still fighting tears. His eyes looked so different from the soldier-like ones he'd fallen in love with all those years ago; it felt like a heavyweight boxer was punching him in the stomach every time he saw them. "Will you be okay?"

"Y-yes." Yurio didn't look too sure of his answer, but Otabek knew that was because he didn't want to be babied. That wish would certainly go unanswered as soon as Viktor, Yuuri, Yakov, or Nikolai were to show up, so Otabek decided to grant it for just a moment.

"Does Yuri have any blood relatives nearby?" Dr. Kozar asked once the door was shut behind the two.

Otabek's brows drew together. "He's never said anything about his parents, he lives between Viktor and Yuuri's house and his coach's house as far as I know. His grandfather is his legal guardian, but he lives in Moscow, why do you ask?"

"Have you been in touch with his grandfather? He'll be needed to sign discharge papers and set up treatment plans."

"We've been communicating, but he's on a cruise right now and won't be able to catch a plane back for the next few days. He's kind of in the middle of the ocean. Would he be able to pass off that responsibility to Yakov or Viktor and Yuuri? They'll most likely be the ones handling any treatment anyway since Yuri live here."

"If we were to obtain verbal consent, yes."

"Okay, I'll talk to him, who should I have him call?"

"Give him my cell number, it will be easier than playing tag with my office phone."


	37. This Moment

"Since your grandpa is away, Dr. Kozar needs him to call and give consent for someone to take care of you," Otabek explained gently once he returned to Yurio. The boy looked so defeated it made Otabek's heart feel like it was being cut from his chest with a dull butter knife. "Would you prefer it to be Yakov or Viktor and Yuuri? Once you make your decision I'll handle it, okay? The person you choose will have to sign discharge papers, take you home, and carry out any treatment plans until your grandpa comes back to Russia and can take over as your legal guardian."

"V-V-Vik…" Yurio bit his tongue as he tripped over the name he'd said countless times. God he felt so helpless.

"It's okay, take a breath," Otabek reminded when he saw Yurio beginning to get angry with his newly acquired speech impediment. "Really think it out first, don't rush."

Yurio took a couple deep breaths, rehearsing the three simple words before attempting to speak them. He was so grateful to Otabek for not just interrupting and saying he got it from the first syllable, but at the same time, he wished he could just communicate with telepathy. His thoughts were clear, why couldn't his words be? "V-Vikto-tor and Yu-Yuuri."

"Good, I'll let them know." Otabek smiled when Yuuri managed to get the words out without fumbling too badly. He pulled out his phone and shot off a text saying Yurio was awake and aware, and that he needed to talk to Viktor in person. "Now, I highly doubt it will happen, but if Viktor and Yuuri can't do this for some reason, will you be okay with Yakov being in charge of you for a couple of days?"

"I g-g-guess-ss." Yurio shrugged. To be honest, he didn't really want anyone to have to take care of him. Yakov had a rink to run; he didn't have time to take Yurio to appointments or sit in meetings about his conditions. Viktor had Yuuri to worry about and they both needed to restart their training for the upcoming season. Besides, he didn't need anyone fussing over him. He was perfectly fine.

"Are you in pain?" Otabek's mild look of alarm would've gone unnoticed to most, but to those who knew him well, it was shocking that he'd show so much emotion.

"Wh-why…?" Yurio began to ask but soon noticed the blur in his vision. Then the wetness running down his temples. Goddammit, not again! Why couldn't he just get over himself and be a man for once?

"Hey, it's okay," Otabek soothed as the tears sped up. He wasn't sure why Yurio was crying, but all he wanted to do was make them disappear. He didn't need this. No one needed this.

"L-l-lay with-th-th me?" Otabek couldn't deny the request as the teary eyes found his. The unlikely eyes of his Yura, so upset, so broken.

"Of course." Otabek managed a smile as Yurio scooted over, giving him room to slide under the covers. It was a tight squeeze, but neither of them were complaining.

"Are you comfortable?" Otabek pulled the thin sheet up as high as it would come while Yurio nuzzled into his shoulder, making a pillow out of the joint.

"Y-yes." Otabek could have sworn he heard a smile. Yurio thought, really thought, before he said his next words, needing to get them out right. "I l-lo-love-ve y-you, Beka." He whispered, taking his time getting the words out so Otabek could at least semi understand them.

"I love you too, Yura." Otabek felt the smile grace his face and his eyes going bleary. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried out of joy, but he really didn't need to. This time was good enough. It would be for as long as he lived.

For a while, the two just existed, holding each other close, keeping each other company in a comfortable silence. The bed was hard and lumpy, but they couldn't have cared less. Both of them were okay, and would be okay. Otabek forgot about the cast on his arm and Yurio tried not to remember what would happen when he spoke next. They just lived in the moment for the first time since Otabek had arrived in St. Petersburg. Up until now, they'd just been wondering about the past or worrying about the future, never just enjoying a moment together. It was blissful to be able to do that.

At some point, Yurio's eyes drifted shut and he found himself succumbing to the heavy pull of sleep. As if he hadn't slept enough in the past few days with his coma and all… Oh well. He let go and fell into the abyss, feeling safe in Otabek's arms.

"Sweet dreams," Otabek whispered when he noticed Yurio's breathing even out and his muscles relax. According to most doctors, rest was the be-all and end-all for most health issues, so why not sleep off a collapsed trachea and stutter? Well, when put that way, the thought sounded outlandish. Otabek just shook his head, timing his breathing to the rise and fall of Yurio's chest as it rhythmically pressed into him then relaxed away.

Not long after Yurio had fallen asleep, Otabek heard a soft knock at the door and looked up to see Viktor, Yuuri, and Phichit coming into the room.

"How's he doing?" Phichit was the first to ask, taking in the snuggle session that was taking place in the tiny hospital bed.

"Okay." Otabek didn't move for fear he would wake the boy next to him. "Shaken up, obviously, but okay."

"What did you need to talk to me about?" Viktor raised his arm, Yuuri swooping under it quickly. Yuuri looked like he wanted to cry at the sight of Yurio.

"Nikolai is away on a cruise, so Yuri has asked that you two step in as temporary guardians until he's able to catch a plane back to Russia." Otabek kept his voice low as Yurio stirred, hoping he hadn't disturbed him.

"Of course." Viktor didn't miss a beat with his answer. How could he say no? Yurio could be a complete asshole, but he was family. Viktor would do whatever he could to help him until his bloodline stepped in. "Who do I need to talk to?"

"Well…" Otabek glanced down at the green eyes that were slowly peeking out from the lids that kept them hidden from everyone else. Eyes that begged him not to leave. "Can you call Nikolai and have him call this number?" Otabek held out the card Dr. Kozar had given him, her cell number scrawled on the back. Yurio closed his eyes again as Viktor got close enough to grab the paper out of Otabek's hand, wishing to keep the human interaction to a minimum for the moment.

"I'll do that now," Viktor nodded. "Yuuri, are you coming with me or staying here?"

"I'll come." Yuuri hadn't managed to tear his eyes from Yurio's throat since they'd stepped through the door. He thought if Yurio had been awake it would have been easier. That if he could have said out loud that he was okay and didn't blame Yuuri for it that he might be able to forgive himself. He thought…

"Let's go then."


	38. Thank You

**I'm ssooooo sorry for the long hiatus. No excuses, just life getting in the way of things in general. Anyway, here's the final chapter of DOBG, minus an epilogue that will be posted right after this. I'm warning you now about a sappy note at the end of that. Happy reading, lovelies.**

* * *

A few hours later, everyone was back at the Katsuki-Nikiforov house. Yurio had marched himself straight up to the room he and Otabek shared, having been followed closely by the latter. Yuuri and Viktor had settled themselves on the couch in the living room, Makkachin at their feet, Phichit in a nearby armchair. A heavy silence had settled itself on the house, one that nobody was tempted to break.

Hours went by and nobody said a word. Phichit had barely even glanced at his phone. Yuuri and Viktor just held each other tightly, never wanting to let go ever again. They all simply existed.

The lasting silence was eventually broken by the quiet sound of socked feet padding down the carpeted stairs.

"Hey." Otabek sighed awkwardly when he reached the bottom and found eight eyes staring at him. Even Makka had popped his curly head up to see who was approaching.

"How is he?" Yuuri was the first to speak as Otabek walked stiffly over to one of the unoccupied chairs.

"Sleeping." Otabek sighed. "I think he's more frustrated than anything. The stutter is really getting to him."

"He's not used to thinking before he speaks." Viktor felt the corner of his lip twitch, but couldn't allow the entire smirk to show itself. It was a crude joke, but also just a plain fact. Yurio said whatever he wanted to say when he wanted to say it. That was just how he had always been. But now… that might change. It was an absolutely horrible reason for Yurio to change his ways, but it could be an effective way for him to develop stronger forethought.

"That couldn't be more true." Otabek smirked, remembering all of the times Yurio had made offhand comments then turned a striking shade of scarlet. He'd always found the instances adorable, especially when Yurio had tried to defend himself afterwards. He would miss that while his beloved kitten healed.

"He'll be okay." Of course it was Phichit who said it. He was always the one to chime in when things seemed grim. When everyone else was down, he was the one with a smile on his face. For that, everyone was eternally grateful. "If he can handle Lilia's ballet boot camp he can handle this. And besides, he did it for someone he loved, out of his own accord." He added quickly before Yuuri could step in an make some horrible self-deprecating comment.

"He won't sulk forever." Viktor gave Yuuri a tight squeeze. "He's too competitive for that. He'll be out and about again as soon as he's able."

"I know." Yuuri tried for a smile, but simply couldn't force his mouth to contort into anything other than a frown. "I know he's strong. Stronger than me. He'll figure it out."

"He will." Otabek agreed.

"I will." Everyone in the room was caught off guard by the voice that made them whirl around and face the stairs. Yurio was staring straight at Yuuri, who was fighting to keep the tears from pooling in his eyes.

"Yuri, I-"

"No." Yuri held the look of intense concentration that he only ever held during Lilia's ballet boot camp sessions. His competitive side was already coming out, not two twenty four hours after discovering his new speech impediment. "No mo-more apologi-a-apologizing." He closed his eyes partway thorugh, focusing all of his energy into the five syllable word. "I did it, n-not you."

"You sound so much better already." Otabek was suddenly behind his beloved, strong arms wrapped gently around his waist, chin resting lightly on his shoulder.

"I just nee-nee-need to think befo-f-f-fore I talk." It sounded as if someone had slowed Yurio's speech down to twenty five percent speed. Meticulous, well thought out, slow. So slow. "Stop c-crying, Katsudon." Yuuri perked up when the sentence was said with almost no missteps, but caved in on himself when he realized that he did, in fact, have tears streaming down his face.

"I know." He sighed, doing his best to dry his cheeks, only for them to be soaked again moments later. "I'm trying, Yurio. I really am. I just can't help it."

"I know." Yurio nodded. "I won't b-beat y-y-y-you up this t-t-t-time. One free p-pass."

"That's fair." Yuuri found himself smiling at Yurio's joke, unbelievably happy that he was trying to make the situation more comfortable and normal for everyone. "Thank you, Yurio. For what you did."

"I couldn't ju-ju-just stand th-there and watch n-n-n-now could I-I?"

"Still." Yuuri untangled himself from Viktor and experimentally reached out for the young boy before him, who surprised everyone when he gently pushed out of Otabek's grip and leaned into the offered embrace. "You're so brave, Yuri." He mumbled into the golden strands that hadn't been washed in a few days. "You'll get through it. If you need anything, absolutely anything, I'm here."

"Same g-goes for you." Yurio snuggled into Yuuri's chest, letting the tears he hadn't realised he'd been holding back slip into the soft fabric. He hoped Yuuri wouldn't mind too much.


	39. Epilogue

"Next up we have Yuuri Katsuki, first runner up at the Grand Prix Finals last year." Yuuri did his lap around the ice as they announced him, shaking out his ankles, cracking his neck, ignoring the countless eyes that were obviously trained on him. "For his free program he is skating to _Break the Silence_ by Francois Mulder, covered by none other than himself."

Yuuri dropped his head and hands as he reached centre ice, relaxing and taking a deep, concentrated breath.

Without his permission, his mind suddenly rewinds to their last day in court. They day they had won and put all four of the perverted bastards behind bars. That was the first time he could recall feeling the weight completely leave his chest, the icy fist release his heart. He and Viktor had cried for hours, out of pure joy.

Yuuri snapped back to reality as he noticed his feet moving by themselves to the music that had begun fluttering down to the ice. When the lyrics faded in, his own voice seeping through the cold air, he found his mind leaving the task at hand yet again.

 _"Are you sure?" Viktor had concern written all over his face as he pulled out the earbuds and looked into Yuuri's eyes. He expected to be met with uncertainty, but instead found confidence. More confidence than Viktor had ever seen come from his fiancé. It was Yurio level confidence. Who was this man and what had he done with Yuuri?_

 _Yuuri nodded with a smile. "Worst case scenario, people judge me. Who cares? Best case, I help someone. I can help someone to know they're not alone. So… yeah. I'm sure."_

 _"I didn't know you sang." Viktor smiled back at his beloved, feeling that giddy lovesick wave crash over him for what had to be the tenth time that day._

As the chorus kicked in, Yuuri forced his mind to attention, ready to hit his triple salchow. He. Would. Not. Fall.

 **Break all the silence, and tell the whole world**

 **That they're tearing me apart with their dirty selfish hands**

 **Leaving me with nothing at all.**

 **They take me inside and break me apart**

 **As they push up against me my skin begins to crawl**

 **Leaving me with nothing at all**

 **I can't cry**

 **For someone to save me**

 **For someone to free me**

 **For someone to show me that love is still alive**

 **And hope is not lost**

 _"My theme this year is conquering." Yuuri hoped the camera wasn't picking up his trembling fingers as they wrapped tightly around the microphone in his hand. He quickly flipped his card to show off the carefully written characters. He'd been dreading this press conference for weeks._

"They already know." _He assured himself silently._ "It's been all over the news, you announced it on social media, they know."

 _"Eight months ago, I was attacked and gang raped in my own home." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could take a breath. "It was the most isolating thing I've ever experienced. I was surrounded by people I loved during my recovery, but still, I felt truly and utterly alone. For a long time, I wasn't sure how much I'd be able to take before I eventually snapped. But in the end, I realised that I was stronger than I ever thought, and I would get through it. I've still got a long way to go, but I now know that I'm not alone. And I hope to let anyone out there who has experienced something similar that you aren't either. Someone has been through the same thing you have. You just have to remember that."_

 **I will not stop until silence no longer fills**

 **The darkened hotel rooms where people trade the lived of the**

 **Unlucky millions the defaced civilians**

 **The mother, the daughter, the brother, the sister, the son**

Yuuri hit a solid double toe, triple flip connection, landing as gracefully as ever and moving into his step sequence.

 **I'll give my life to make it go away**

 **Wash off their hands but still feel stained**

 **Who is gonna turn the night into day?**

He searched for Viktor along the barrier, catching his entranced gaze and reaching out to him as he skated past before snapping around into a gorgeous death drop.

 **And I cry**

 _"Yuuri!" Viktor jolted awake when he heard the muffled scream, turning on the bed-side lamp as quickly as possible. His heart broke to see Yuuri sobbing into his pillow. The nightmares were still so vivid, even months after the attack. "Yuuri it's okay." He gathered his raven haired beauty into his arms and let him cry, reminding him to breath when he chest began to expand and contract too sporadically. "They can't hurt you, my love. Nobody will ever hurt you ever again. I'll kill anyone who tries to lay a hand on you. I promise."_

 **As they push up against me my skin begins to crawl**

 **Leaving me with nothing at all**

Yuuri let the music flow thorugh him as he began his combination spin, camel to flying sit spin, to sit, to A, to scratch. It changed with each begging, pleading phrase.

 **No more**

 **I cannot take it**

 **No more no**

 **I can't take it anymore**

 **No more**

 **I can't take it**

 **I can't take it anymore**

With the last line Yuuri flew into his flawless quad flip, spotting Viktor as he landed.

 **Someone please save me**

He met Viktor's eyes as he glided back to centre ice for his final pose.

 **Someone please free me**

His voice and the piano notes faded out as he reached out for his fiancé, tears streaming down his face. He caught the flash of gold that meant Viktor was reaching for him too, ring in plain view.

For a moment, the arena was silent. Yuuri couldn't quite comprehend why until he realised: he had skated a perfect program. No bobbles, no falls, not even a misplaced finger. Everything had gone as it should have.

Suddenly the announcers' voices were echoing through the rink, drowned out by the relentless cheering from the massive GPF audience. Yuuri kept letting the tears fall as he skated to the sidelines, crashing into Viktor's awaiting arms.

"Yuuri!" his silver-haired lover cried, letting his own tears slip. "Yuuri."

"Viktor." He agreed.

* * *

 **I hope that ending came across as I intended. Oh well, if it didn't, to each his own!**

 **As promised, here is my sappy note:**

 **Thank you to everyone who has favourited and/or followed DOBG and/or myself. I appreciate it more than you know, and again, I'm so sorry for taking so long to finish this. Truth be told, I kind of lost inspiration for a while, mostly due to not knowing how to end such a drawn out story. I figured an epilogue (as much of a cop-out it can sometimes be) was the best way to insert eight months of content into the end of the story, rather than adding another 37 chapters.**

 **I'd liek to send out a special thanks to YuriKatsuki1 and Arisquelle, who reached out to me through this site, and became really good friends as the story developed. I love you guys! Always feel free to message me with questions, comments, concerns, or just for general anime chit chat! I'm always down to meet new online friends!**

 **I have another YOI story in the works that focuses heavily on Yuuri's (tragic) past, so keep on the lookout for that if you want more Viktuuri angst, and feel free to request a story if you'd like! DOBG started off as an idea given to me by a friend, and she thinks I did okay with it, so if you'd like me to write a oneshot or a full length story, send me a message with your idea and I'll do my best!**

 **Well, I think that's all the sappiness I have in me. I hope I'll see you guys again soon! Happy reading, friends!**


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